Stalked
by financebabe
Summary: The tables are turned when Ranger gets a dangerous stalker and he has to ask Stephanie for her help in drawing them out. This is a Babe story with a very happy ending.
1. Finding a Way

_The characters below are all from the genius of JE._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) thank you so much for signing on for another story as my beta. _

**Chapter 1 – Finding a Way**

_Ranger's POV_

"There has to be another option. There is no damn way I'm asking her to do this," I growled at my core team, frustrated at their lack of new ideas to solve the new threat at RangeMan.

Three months ago I began receiving threatening packages from some unknown person that seemed to be fascinated with me. The first packet included pictures of me and my sister Celia, and the sender seemed to misinterpret our relationship as being romantic instead of familial. The next week I got another package apologizing for the mistake and including a picture or Celia and I with Abuela Rosa at lunch. I guess the nut decided to learn more about my family and realized their mistake.

Six weeks ago there was a package of photos of me and Stephanie behind the bonds office. My stalker seemed particularly upset about the kiss we shared and threatened to get rid of the competition so that they could have a chance with me. But when Steph went back to Morelli, another package showed up praising me for sending her back to the cop instead of keeping her for myself. I was relieved at that point and pulled the security detail from Stephanie, assuming she was safe from the danger my life had brought into hers.

I received additional threats after lunches with clients. These elevated from just being an insane person ranting about what they wanted me to do, to a whole new level that included photos and video of me both in Trenton and in Miami. The package that arrived yesterday finally issued the ultimatum we were all anticipating. Either I made myself available to them or they would begin killing any female I associated with. Apparently they wanted a proper courtship, so the indication from the letter was that it would be months before we would actually meet, and in the meantime I could have absolutely no female company regardless of the reason. By following their directions and not having any contact with women, I could prove my worth to be in a relationship with the stalker.

I couldn't just hide in the building. There were clients – female clients – that I needed to see. We had to assume based on the pictures that had been sent that the stalker was able to get close enough to make good on their treat. I was being forced to either hide and wait or try to flush out the threat and eliminate it. I wasn't capable of hiding. It went against my nature. My suggestion was to get Jeanne Ellen up here to pose as a romantic interest, but she had been injured on some sort of assignment with the government and was unable to travel, and wasn't willing to take the risk of putting a target on her head for being seen with me if she wasn't physically able to defend herself. It was a fair response, and I didn't blame her, but it didn't help me.

Lester's bright idea was to use Stephanie, which brings me to my insistence there has to be another way.

"There's no one else for us to use, Boss," Tank jumped in, the only one who didn't seem to be struck mute by my fist hitting the conference room table top.

"I can't put her in this kind of danger," I tried to explain to the group of kindergarteners that apparently worked for me. "She can't protect herself if this is a professional, and the trap she lives in can be broken into by most of the kids I know. She'd be vulnerable all the time. I just can't do it."

Bobby spoke up, but I noticed he wasn't looking me in the eye, which made me suspicious. "I know you have a soft spot for Bomber, and we all want to protect her, so can't we find a way to keep her safe long enough for it to work? I mean, you'd have to clue her in about what's happening, and she'd have to move out of her apartment, at least for a while. But that would just add credibility to your story, wouldn't it?"

"You aren't listening to me," I repeated slowly making sure I wasn't using any words that were too big for them to understand. "I won't use her and put her life in danger just to protect myself. It's out of the question." Feeling frustrated, I dismissed everyone and told them we'd meet again in the morning. Maybe I'd get some sort of inspiration overnight.

I couldn't help but notice that Tank didn't leave. After Bobby and Lester walked out he shut the door and came back to the table to sit across from me. I looked at him and waited, knowing he had something to say or he wouldn't have come back.

"I'm no expert," he started and I raised an eyebrow, basically asking if he wasn't sure of what he was talking about then why was he still speaking. Tank chose to ignore me and kept on, "I know you like Ms. Plum. I know you two have some sort of complicated relationship that neither one of you will admit to, and that's why you refuse to use her. But RangeMan needs you to be out in the community. I'm sure if we pulled our best guys and built a plan around defending her that we could keep her safe; at least long enough to catch this freak. Do you think she would consider it?"

I ran my hand over my face trying to figure out how to explain how I felt about this without saying too much. "She wouldn't consider it; she'd jump in and do it without even thinking about the true sacrifice that I'm asking of her. She's never said no to anything I've asked of her, even when she probably should have. But after Julie…" I stopped talking there. Tank knew that I hated asking Steph for anything more than the occasional distraction after she helped me get Julie back. If I hadn't gotten to Steph's apartment in time Scrog could have killed her. It meant more to me than I could ever explain that she was so willing to help me, but I swore I'd never put her in that position again.

Tank realized I was done talking and stood up. "Just promise me if people start getting hurt, that you'll consider it."

I looked at him, but said nothing. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. I was going to stay out of the office as much as possible from now on, avoiding all contact with women and trying to be more aware of my surroundings, so that I could try and catch whoever it was that was trying to steel my freedom. I didn't mind the threat to my life, this wasn't the first time someone had been gunning for me, but I hated that they were trying to get to me by threatening innocent people.

The rest of the day was quiet, so by 1500 hours I was ready for a break and stopped by Tank's office to tell him I was going by the bond's office to see if Connie had anything for us. He jumped up as though I'd invited him to ride along.

"Until we figure this thing out, where you go, I go," he stated emphatically. I crossed my arms over my chest showing him I didn't need his permission or his shadow. Then the guy that I'd been friends with since I was in boot camp spoke again, "You can cut that shit out right now, man. I've been watching your back for fourteen years, and today ain't any different."

I was able to block the smile from showing up, but down deep I appreciated what he was saying. He was protecting me, even from my own stubborn nature.

When we got to the bond's office I was relieved that Lula wasn't there. Connie greeted us as soon as the bell over the door rang. "I've only got one new file for you," she told me, holding out the standard paperwork I knew she'd pulled together. Not for the first time I wondered why she wasted her time working for Vinnie. Sure she was bold and brash, but she had a good business head on her shoulders and could easily run any office.

"He in?" I asked, looking to the door Vinnie liked to hide behind. Connie nodded, so I let myself into the inner sanctum and hoped my shots were all current enough to keep me protected as I walked in on Vinnie watching some kind of video on his computer that had a screeching cat and the sound of a bull whip over the top of a woman moaning. I knew the guy was into all kinds of weird fetishes, but I was equally positive I didn't want to see what was on that screen or I'd never get the image out of my head.

It took him a good three seconds to recognize I was standing there, and when he did he started clicking his mouse madly. He finally ended the video feed on the forth try. I couldn't help but notice that he didn't move his chair back or attempt to stand up. I was electing to believe it was because he was in the middle of a work related task, not because he was attempting to hide the fact that his pants were undone and he had his hand wrapped around the pitiful appendage between his legs.

"I want a copy of all Steph's files made for RangeMan for the foreseeable future," I informed him.

"Why?" Vinnie had the balls to question.

I raised an eyebrow at his attempt to stand up to me. I refused to explain that it was because I wanted fair warning about who she was going after while I was trying to stay away from her. If there were any in her stack that looked like trouble, I could have the guys set up reasons to shadow her for back up to keep her safe while I was unavailable. Eventually Vinnie came back to his senses and said, "Fine, fine, I'll tell Connie."

I nodded, knowing he would eventually see things my way. I spun around and took the three steps to the door before saying, "You might want to keep the volume on that shit a little lower. I could hear it on the other side of the door. I doubt Harry would be as understanding about the music you listen to while you're 'working'." With that, I took my leave and stepped back into the main office to the voice I most loved, but also had hoped to avoid.

She was trying to talk but Tank interrupted her to say, "Put your head between your legs and breathe."

Shit. I could sneak out the back to avoid her, or I could go see why she was having a panic attack. I had to believe something significant had happened if Steph was falling apart. She lived under near constant stress, so it took more to rattle her than the average person.

When I heard her voice crack I realized there was no decision to be made. I had to go to her. Kneeling in front of her knees I put my hand on her neck and Tank moved away to give me space with her. "Babe?"

Stephanie jerked her head up at the sound of my voice. Then she did the unexpected and threw her arms around my neck and attached herself to me in a move too fierce to be considered a hug. It felt like she was so scared that she was clinging to me as her only hope for salvation. "What's going on?" I finally asked her once I gave up hope that she would let me go on her own.

"My car…" she started to speak, but began breathing in little hiccups once more.

"Deep breaths," I reminded her, exaggerating my own breathing to lead her respiration to mirror mine. Once it seemed that she was calming down I ventured a guess. "Did something happen to your car?" I figured it wasn't that far out there as a possibility. She went through cars faster than most people went through loaves of bread.

She shook her head no and pulled back to look at the box sitting on the couch next to her. I didn't have to open it to know I probably wouldn't like what was in it. "Was this in your car?" I asked, still trying to piece together what she'd said. She nodded her head and scooted away from the box a couple of inches as though she knew what was in it and had no desire to see it again.

"Was it in the car this morning?" I asked, wanting to get as much information as possible while it was still fresh in her mind.

She wiped her eyes, getting rid of the grey smudges where the tar from her eyelashes was melting from her tears. Then she straightened up her back, and I could see her pulling up strength from her reserves. It was this ability that she had to face things, even when they were difficult, that drew me to her. She might seem ill prepared for the career she chose, but at heart she was a warrior and was able to face most anything that life threw at her.

"It wasn't in the car this morning. I picked up Mooner and took him to the station, then I waited while Vinnie rebonded him, and I drove him back home. After that I stopped by my parents' house and had lunch, and then I went to the station to drop off some things that belonged to Joe. I was coming back here to see Connie to give her my receipt for Mooner when I realized something didn't smell right in my car, so before I came in I looked around and that box was sitting on the back seat. It wasn't there when I went in the police station, so somebody must have put it in my car while I was inside." She gave me all the details of her day, and by default she had most likely identified when the package was slipped in. Luckily, we could get the feed from the station to see who put it in her car.

I chose to ignore the fact that she was dropping off things that belonged to Joe. I thought they were on an off stage again, but knowing the way they worked they could be back on again without me being aware. Instead, I asked, "Can I take a look at the box?"

She nodded and turned her head to look out the window. The box itself seemed harmless enough. It was a standard white bakery box with no writing or identifying marks. Tank came over and handed me a latex glove, taking the other one of the pair for his left hand. I lifted the lid and caught a bit of a rancid smell, which must have been what alerted Steph in the confines of her car.

Inside the package were two small jewelry boxes; one the size that would hold a ring, and the other a long box like a necklace holder. I opened the rectangular box first and didn't need long to see that it was a human finger. There was tissue paper around the digit covered in blood. It appeared to be from either a small man, or a rough working woman, as the finger was petit, but calloused. I shut the top on that box and lifted the ring box to see its contents better. Tank lifted the lid with his gloved hand and we both looked inside.

The ring inside had a wide band of gold, built up on the top to house a single inset diamond. It was the kind of ring a man might wear on his pinkie if he liked that kind of jewelry. Stephanie looked over and caught sight of the ring before putting her hands over her mouth in surprise. "Do you recognize this ring?" I asked her, unsure of her expression.

She shook her head no and then asked, "Do you think it went with the…finger in the other box?"

"Probably, but we won't know for sure until we find out who the finger belonged to," I told her, glancing back to see if there was any other information. Usually when stalkers sent packages like this one they included a note, but there didn't appear to be any correspondence. Tank picked up on what I was looking for and asked if he could look around in Stephanie's car in case it was on top and got separated some how.

I put everything away and looked at Connie who was taking everything in very calmly. "Police," I told her, realizing this needed to be handed over to the authorities. Maybe they could ID the victim with a fingerprint.

After Connie hung up she looked at me and said, "You aren't going to find a note."

"Why not?" I couldn't help but ask.

"The finger is the message. Somebody isn't happy with Stephanie, and in my family there would be no reason to add anything else to the sentiment of sending body parts," Connie said matter-of-factly. Sometimes I forgot how connected she was. I guess this kind of thing wasn't as strange to her as it was to most people.

I sat back next to Steph waiting on the blue and whites. Stephanie leaned her head on my shoulder and let out a long breath. "I've got another stalker?"

"Looks like it," I replied. I didn't tell her that it gave us something in common since I had one too. Instead, I lifted my arm and pulled her closer to my side. When I heard the sirens coming I told her, "I'll stay with you while you turn this over and give your statement, and then we'll go check out your apartment together."

She nodded and groaned her displeasure at the idea that if someone had planted a box in her car they might be trying to break into her apartment too.

Luckily Eddie and Big Dog were the officers dispatched. Eddie knew Stephanie well enough to know this wasn't the time to come in making jokes. He took her statement while Big Dog looked over the contents of the box. In under thirty minutes they had come and gone, taking the finger and ring with them.

Tank had a strange expression on his face as I stood up and offered Stephanie my hand to help her to the car. "What?" I asked, unaccustomed to seeing him show anything but his blank face when we were in the field.

He looked at our joined hands and then out the window as though trying to tell me something without using any words. Then it hit me, he was telling me that if I went outside holding Stephanie's hand that I was making her a target for my stalker too. So far we were in the bonds office, probably hidden from prying eyes, but if we walked out like this then I was pulling her into my worries on top of her own.

I couldn't allow that so I said, "Babe, I want you to stay here with Connie. Tank and I are going to ride over to your apartment and check it out first. I'll call you after we've looked around and cleared it to let you know it's safe to come home."

She looked at me like I was talking to her in Spanish. In fact, she was quiet for so long that I began to worry I had done just that. It wasn't until Tank prompted her by saying, "Ms. Plum?" that she shook her head and looked down at the floor.

"Sure, that's fine. I'll wait here," she replied in such a small voice it didn't even sound like her. It was almost like she was upset about not being allowed to come with us. I knew she hated not being included in any decisions that involved her, but this was about keeping her safe. I'd rather hurt her feelings and have her alive than indulge her independence and see her hurt because of me. I had plenty of time to make this up to her once I better understood what we were up against.

The drive to Steph's apartment took only ten minutes and was made in silence. I heard Tank clear his throat once but he never spoke and I didn't ask what he wanted to say. I'd known him long enough to understand he was debating saying something and since he seemed to be deciding against speaking up, I had a feeling it was something he figured I wouldn't like. If that was the case there was no reason to push him to speak.

As soon as we made it up the stairs I knew someone had been in her apartment. The door was open, and as relaxed as Stephanie was about her safety, I knew that even she wouldn't forget to shut and lock the door. Tank brought his Sig out at the same moment I did. There was no reason to inform him that we needed to be on our guard and secure her apartment.

The living room looked undisturbed, but a quick glance in the kitchen told me there was trouble. Rex's cage was sitting on the counter, but he wasn't in it. I knew if Steph had asked someone to watch him that she'd have delivered him cage and all. Someone had taken her hamster and I had a feeling that piece of news was going to be more disturbing to her than receiving a finger in her car.

Tank checked the bathroom and shook his head no, indicating that everything upon first glance seemed fine. I went to the bedroom and sitting in the center of Stephanie's bed was an eight by ten photo of her and me taken in the alley behind the bond's office. Steph was leaning against the brick and I had my hands flat on the wall just above each of her shoulders. I was leaning toward her face and she was looking up at me with her big blue eyes. It was obviously taken from a distance because the blow up to this size had it slightly grainy, but otherwise it was an excellent photo.

Above the photo was a typed note identical to the ones I had received from my stalker. It read, 'He's mine. Stay away, and I'll leave you alone.'

I heard Tank whistle as he read the note. "Whether you want her to be or not, she's involved."

Damn it. I couldn't deny that Tank was right. Whoever this was gunning for me had obviously identified Steph as a threat and was taking it upon themselves to eliminate her as competition. There were probably a lot of plausible responses to this situation, but I could only think of one: draw out this bastard and kill them. Threatening me was one thing – I didn't like it, but it wasn't the first time and I could handle it. But when they were foolish enough to threaten the one thing I considered to be good in my life they made a fatal mistake.

I took a deep breath and then faced Tank. "Call Hal and tell him to get over here with his kit to process this place. Once he's done call the PD and report the break in. I'm going to go get Steph from the bond's office and I'm going to publicly bring her to Haywood. This sick shit is going down, and until then I want two men on Steph anytime she even walks near a window at the office. We'll pull up a couple of men from Boston to help out while we try to bait this stalker into a mistake."

He picked up his cell phone from his belt and started dialing. I left in a hurry and took the Navigator back to Vinnie. I walked in and watched as Steph sat up where she'd stretched out on the vinyl couch. I held out my hand and then looked to be sure the bathroom was open. Without explaining a thing I held her hand in mine and led her down the hall to the restroom, shutting the door behind us.

She was completely confused, but in a rare show of her trust in me, she didn't say a word and waited for me to talk. Standing here in front of her now, my brilliant plan born from my anger in her apartment no longer seemed like such a good idea. How could I put her in this danger yet again? And why was it my famous control only went out the window when things involved Stephanie?

I guess my mental musings began to get to her as she spoke up, "Is there a reason we're in the bathroom?"

Leave it to Steph to not get worked up over how I'm acting, or why I'm not talking and instead focus on our physical location. I couldn't help but offer a small smile in response. "I needed a place to talk to you without an audience."

"What are we discussing?" She wrinkled her forehead in the sweetest way, as though she were trying to figure out some great mystery of life.

"I need your help," I confessed, feeling like a complete failure for admitting it aloud.

"Okay, I'll do it," she replied without hesitation.

I put my hands on her shoulders and grinned. I knew she'd say that. Without even asking the details of how much danger she would be in, she just jumped in because I said I needed her. There weren't many people in the world that would do that. Hell, even my men would ask what I needed before committing themselves to it.

"Wait, Babe," I warned her. "You should probably get the details of what you're agreeing to first."

"Doesn't matter," she assured me. "If there is anything I can do to help you, then regardless of what it is, I'll do it."

I couldn't stop my hand from lifting off her shoulder and cupping her jaw so that my thumb could softly graze over her cheek. She smiled at the attention, and I decided to level with her. "I have a stalker, and they have said if I have any type of communication with a female they will eliminate the competition, so to speak. I need you to stay close to me and go out in public with me so that we can draw this person out and eliminate them. It puts you in a great deal of danger. We'd do everything we could to keep you safe, but since we don't exactly know who we're dealing with, I can't guarantee that they won't slip past our defenses."

She shook her head as though what I said wasn't important. "How together do we need to be?" She asked, confusing me. Since I paused she clarified what she was going after. "I mean do we just need to work a little together, or do we need to convince them that we're a couple? And if we need to be a couple, can people know that it's just for the purpose of drawing out a stalker or does the community need to think it's real?"

I hadn't anticipated these questions. "The guys on the core team will know the difference, and we can tell your parents the truth, but until we know where the threat is coming from I don't think we should tell anyone else."

She smiled and said, "So everyone at the police station would think we were dating?"

"I'm sorry Babe, you could tell Morelli if you wanted, so he doesn't get the wrong idea," I offered, thinking that's where these questions were heading. I don't know why the thought of that bothered me so much. I'd been clear with her for years that she needed to stick with Morelli because he could offer her the things I couldn't.

She shook her head. "No, it would be a big help to me if, at least for a while, everyone there thought we were together. I've been trying everything I can think of to help Joe understand that fact, and he doesn't seem to be getting it. I'd be more than glad to pose as your girlfriend to draw out your stalker if you would be willing to let Joe think the two of us are an item so that he moves on and leaves me alone."

"You sure you want that?" I asked, curious why she was so insistent on losing Joe for good. "You guys have a habit of working things out."

"It was a bad habit," she said with an edge to her voice. "We're done, forever, and I'll be damned if anything will change that."

"What happened?" I asked her, feeling the need to understand what blew up between them this time.

She looked down at my chest and paused. "I'll tell you sometime when we run out of things to talk about."

I lifted her chin, forcing her to look at me before saying, "Then I may never get to hear the story because in all the time I've known you we've never run out of things to talk about."

Her eyes darkened and narrowed fractionally as her checks lifted in a smile. I'd been on all kinds of missions and been forced to pretend to be various characters for the purpose of getting the job done. But playing the part of Stephanie's significant other was the dream role of a lifetime.

"We'll need to walk out of here together, pause at the truck and give whoever might be looking a show. But I need you to let me position you so that I have you protected. I can't risk somebody with a scope and a rifle getting a lucky shot before I have guys in place to watch our backs," I instructed her, trying to think ahead. It was doubtful we'd have an audience this time, but I didn't have much of a profile for my stalker, so anything was possible.

She laced her fingers through mine and instructed, "Alright, let's get this show on the road."

I am Carlos Manoso, Army Ranger, owner of a security firm, and all around badass. I don't need an internal monologue in order to function. Yet walking past Connie's desk and out of the bonds office I found myself mentally chanting, 'keep it cool, keep it cool,' to prevent me from taking this further than it needed to go. This was just an acting gig, and I needed to keep that in the forefront of my mind in order to be aware enough of my surroundings to keep Stephanie safe.

But when I opened the passenger door of the Navigator and backed her to the truck with my body covering hers I had no ability to stop myself from leaning down and kissing her. Intending to keep it light and short I was surprised when Steph moved her hands up to grip my shoulders and keep me in place. I'm blaming her move for my mouth opening and my tongue slipping out to trace her lips.

I'd like to say I was intentionally overacting to be sure we were spotted, but the truth is from the moment her mouth opened and my tongue touched hers, I didn't really give a shit about the rest of the scene we were painting. My only thought was how inconvenient it was that we were so far away from a bed.


	2. Control is Overrated

_I deserve no credit for the Plum characters below. JE is the creative force behind them._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) thank you for being so encouraging and diligent as the beta on this story._

_A/N: I know I said I wasn't going to post every day on this story, but you guys completely overwhelmed me yesterday with your response and I couldn't stop typing so here is chapter two. A special thanks to Angie and Isabella for the wonderful lunch yesterday. It was great to meet two Babes and to spend time talking about how we wish Janet would write the man in the black. You both inspired me enough to come back to work and get busy writing. _

**Chapter 2 – Control is Overrated**

_Stephanie's POV_

I couldn't figure out why Ranger brought us to the bathroom, but once he explained that he needed my help I guessed it was to keep this conversation private. Vinnie didn't bug the restroom so it was the best place to have a chat without everyone knowing. Of course, I didn't hesitate to say I'd help him. There is nothing I wouldn't do for Ranger. I owe him for all that he's done for me, but that isn't why I'd jump at the chance to do something for him. I do it because I want to, not to repay a debt. Besides, I think there are very few people he'd admit to needing something from, and it makes me feel good to think I'm on the short list.

As he explained what he needed I felt twice as glad to have this opportunity. It would help me to finally shake myself lose from Joe who had turned into a stray dog that I'd fed scraps to. Despite my best attempts to tell him to leave and that I wasn't going to feed him ever again, he was still insisting on begging and waiting for me to change my mind. Letting the Burg believe I was seriously dating Ranger would cut Joe loose for good. I think if it were anyone else Joe would continue to try and fight his way in, but he'd always suspected Ranger and I had a thing behind his back, so I think stepping out publicly would be a betrayal of sorts that he wouldn't forgive.

I could tell Ranger was worried about the stalker, but I guess I was so used to life with someone gunning for me that I didn't see it as anything new. If he wanted to protect me a little extra I would try to accept his plan and let him. When he pressed his body against mine in the open doorway of his Navigator I decided that letting him protect me wasn't going to be such a burden to endure after all.

When he kissed me I expected it to be with distant closed mouth only contact, just done for public viewing. I blame my Hungarian hormones for the fact that my hands didn't stay by my side and went up to grab a hold of him instead. Of course, it definitely wasn't my fault that once his mouth opened, I moaned and let my tongue slip out. And once he began to devour my lips with his I was completely lost, unable to worry about a stalker or my safety.

In fact, I'm pretty sure I would have straddled his thigh and begun humping him in front of the office if a voice hadn't cut through the foggy sexual haze. "Ummmhmmm," came Lula's distinct 'I caught you in the act' sound. "You two need to get you a room, 'cause there are laws against doing stuff like that in public. I know these things."

Ranger allowed a few inches of space between us and a quick glance to his face showed me that he was just as affected by what just happened as I was. Score one for Stephanie!

Lula was looking back and forth between the two of us trying to figure out how to get as much information as possible in the short amount of time she had before Ranger pushed me in the truck and took off. "You just stealing a taste of my girl, or are you manning up for real this time. You ain't in the alley so it must mean something."

Ranger's blank face made an appearance before he said, "It always means something." He turned me and used his hand on my shoulder to guide me into the truck, indicating we were about to leave.

"You know you're gonna have to talk to me," Lula spoke around Ranger to me.

"I'll call you later," I tried to throw out as a peace offering.

"Girl, you know you ain't gonna call me. This ain't no phone conversation, this is a big bucket of chicken and one of those little apple pies kind of conversation, and maybe some ice cream too," she threw out as Ranger shut the door ending our banter. She was right though, after seeing that kiss there was no way I was going to get away with telling Lula that Ranger and I were just friends. I couldn't tell her that I was only doing this to help him out with a stalker, so I was going to have to come up with something good. Maybe I could go with a partial truth and tell her that he asked for me to help him with some work stuff and then he kissed me, and that I don't know where it's going but I'm not going to fight whatever happens.

Now that I've gotten rid of the whole guilt of being between two men thing, I'm free to see what could happen between me and Ranger. The problem is that he's always been clear about what can happen. He likes me, maybe more than other women, but despite that he isn't interested in a real relationship, and pretending to be involved with him is as close as I'll ever come to the real thing. I hope it's worth it, because when this stalker has been flushed out and he doesn't need me anymore, I'm not sure how I'll adjust to being his friend and occasional employee once again.

The ride to Haywood was quiet, which wasn't unusual for Ranger, but it was odd as hell for me. I usually made it my mission to force him to talk to me when we rode somewhere together, but I was content to stay in my head this time. Between my random thoughts and the speed of my heartbeat, I had plenty to focus on. Before I knew it we were back in the safety of the RangeMan garage and my door was being held open by Ranger.

"I'm glad you're taking your safety so seriously," he said holding out a hand to help me out of the truck. I looked at him like he'd sprouted a second head so he clarified, "You should always wait and let someone clear the area and open the door as a signal that it's alright for you to get out of the car. Since we don't know where the threat is coming from, you're going to need to be especially careful."

I nodded as though everything he said made sense. Primarily I was relieved he assumed that's why I had been stuck to the chair of the Navigator. In truth, I was still reeling from the kiss at the bond's office and hadn't realized he'd gotten out of the vehicle. I was going to have to get better at playing it cool or he'd begin to suspect the real danger of this plan wasn't that the stalker would hurt me, but that my own heart would get so involved I wouldn't be able to let go of the dream of the act we were putting on.

Ranger's hand on my lower back guided me to the elevator and he hit the number five to take us to the office. I focused on the way just the light touch of his fingertips and the outline of his palm against my back was warm and comforting. I had to force myself to fight the desire to lean back into his touch. It was one thing to act like a couple in order to make a crazy person take notice in public. But doing it in the office might be a bit much for Ranger and make him regret asking for my help.

I felt the pressure from his hand increase and realized the door had opened and he was pushing me to walk out of the elevator. Some how he managed to keep from instructing me to be more aware of my surroundings, but he did have an expression on his face that looked concerned about what was wrong with me. I may be a little ditzy, but I've never failed to notice the hum of the office and the open state of the doors before.

We went straight to the small conference room, and after sending a text or two on his cell phone I heard boots coming down the hall toward us and wondered what brief message he'd typed in created such an instant result.

Tank, Lester and Bobby appeared and took their places around the conference table. "What do we know?" Ranger asked looking at Tank.

"Hal is there now processing the apartment. There were prints everywhere, and he's taking a sampling in the high profile places like the front door, the bedroom door, and the bathroom. The photo isn't really traceable, but the note appears to match the ones you've received, so we're certain your stalker reached out to Ms. Plum in order to warn her away from you. Hal was going to wait while the PD finished their sweep, and then he'll return here and process the prints he lifted," the second in command reported.

I was sure all of that made perfect sense to the guys, but I couldn't get past one thing he said, "What do you mean the stalker reached out to me?"

Ranger looked down briefly before turning his head to the right to look me in the eye. "My stalker left a picture of us on your bed and a note telling you to stay away from me. When I went over to check it out after seeing the package that was left in your car we found your apartment had been broken into. I left Tank there and had him call Hal since he has CSI training."

"Did you think I wouldn't notice the crime scene tape when I went home tonight?" I asked, trying to make the point that I didn't appreciate him not telling me his stalker had already made the connection between us. I know I would have helped no matter what, but my life had already been in danger so he was going to have to be a little more open with the details from now on.

When I glanced around the table no one was looking at me. Lester was absorbed in looking at the ceiling tiles, Tank and Ranger were having a staring competition, and the report on the table in front of Bobby must have been gripping reading.

I couldn't take the silence in the room so I blurted out, "You can cut the silent thing out right now!" Maybe that had a little more fire in it than I intended but it got everyone's attention so I went with it. "I said I would help lure this crazy person out, but you are going to have to keep me in the loop with what is happening, especially if it happens in my apartment."

Ranger grimaced and said, "Now that we've made a public showing, you can't stay in your apartment. You'll have to stay at Haywood."

"I _have_ to…" I said before helping him to understand how I wanted to be treated by rephrasing, "Or you _hope_ I will."

Lester let out a low whistle, and Bobby was back to reading the report. Tank's eyebrows were so high up on his face they almost looked like a hair line.

"Babe," he said as though that were enough.

"What?" I came back, as though my one word said as much as his.

"I can't protect you in your apartment. I need you to stay here until we have gotten this nutcase out of the way," he explained.

Since he said he _needed_ me to stay instead of saying I _had_ to stay, I decided to let him off the hook. "All you had to do was explain it instead of making it sound like a command, and I would have happily complied."

He raised an eyebrow as though he doubted that were true, but he was smart enough not to say anything more. Instead, he turned back to address the guys and told them, "I talked to Stephanie and she has agreed to help lure the stalker out, so we need to work out both sides of this operation. One needs to center around keeping Stephanie safe at all costs, and the other needs to work out the details of how to identify and eliminate the threat once they begin to respond to the visible relationship between us."

"And what about a team to keep you protected. I mean, just because she's mad about you and I being together doesn't mean that she'll lash out at me. Maybe she'll just get pissed and try to take you out instead," I said.

Ranger looked at me and gave me a half smile. His eyes softened and I wondered what was going on in his head. "We don't know for certain that the stalker is a female. But to your other point, because of my past there is always a plan for watching my back. We don't have to review it because anytime there is a known threat we automatically revert to the established plan of coverage."

"Okay, as long as you're being careful too," I admitted, glad to know there was something in place to watch his back and not just mine.

"Babe, there is one more thing," Ranger began making me nervous about what he was about to share. He took my hand in his and held it tightly before saying, "When we were checking out your apartment, Rex wasn't in his cage."

"Someone let Rex out? Why would they do that?" I asked irritated at the idea of having to wrangle him back into his home. I loved the little guy, but he liked to bite when you picked him up and I still had a nick on my thumb where I cleaned his cage over the weekend and he decided I was an enemy to attack.

"Hal is to search the apartment," Ranger added carefully. "But at first glance the appearance isn't that someone let him out, but that he was taken. I didn't see a trace of him anywhere."

I couldn't imagine why anyone would take a hamster. I couldn't allow my mind to accept the possibility that he'd been taken in order to make a point to me. "Are you sure Hal will search behind the furniture and between the cushions?"

"I'll call him with specific instructions to do it. If he's in your apartment, Hall will find him," Ranger assured me.

"Then until Hal comes back and says there is no Rex, I refuse to admit that he's in trouble," I said slipping easily into my old friend denial. Ranger looked at me closely as though he couldn't believe I was taking the news so well, but eventually he turned back to the guys and they picked back up with the meeting.

We spent the next hour and a half going over details so minor that I had trouble seeing the significance. Eventually, I lost interest and let my mind wander. I was in a semi-aware state when everybody started standing up and Ranger said, "So once the guys get here from the other offices tomorrow we will start going out. I'll take Steph to the bond's office in the morning, and then we'll go out to dinner in the evening. Until there is some kind of progress, we will plan on stepping out at least twice a day. Once the stalker contacts us or we are able to get an ID then we'll reassess the need to continue baiting them."

Everyone nodded as though his two second summary really took ninety minutes to come up with, and then they walked out.

I decided I should get the details of my stay here ironed out so I asked, "What apartment on four will I be using while I'm here?"

Ranger gave me that half smile once more and said, "You weren't listening at all were you?"

I could feel my cheeks turning red, so there was no point at all in trying to deny it. "I tried to, but once you started examining the word choice of a ten word note I kind of lost interest."

He chuckled at my honest confession and filled me in. "We're bringing in some of the guys from Boston and Miami so there are faces that aren't recognizable watching our backs. They will begin arriving tonight and will be using the apartments on four. You'll need to stay on seven with me."

My hormones were jumping up and down in victory at this announcement, my brain, however, was still firing on enough cylinders to recognize how much more difficult that would make this. Still, I knew there were only so many places to put everyone, and we'd stayed on seven before when I was in trouble, so there was no reason for me to object now.

"What about my clothes and things?" I asked, wondering if he'd let me run over to my apartment and pack.

"Tank called Hal and asked him to pack for you when the police clear the scene," Ranger reported in that smug voice that said 'I plan for every possible situation and never miss a single detail.'

I couldn't let him think that was going to work so I pushed, "Hal can't pack my make-up or know what clothes to pack."

"Ella is telling him what to bring from your apartment, and she's had an emergency supply of all your products for months now in case an emergency ever arrived and all your things were destroyed," he replied scoring a point for his preparedness.

"You think you're so smart don't you?" My mouth said before my brain could stop it.

He smiled full on and I melted a little. "I'm just prepared for anything, and when it comes to you, anything is a pretty broad term."

I would have smacked him for that comment but I knew it wouldn't do any good.

"So if I heard you correctly I'm stuck here until we leave some time tomorrow to go to the bonds office," I stated.

"If you're bored I'm sure we can find some searches for you to run, or you can head up to seven and watch television or a movie," he suggested.

My stomach growled and he added, "Or you can go to the break room and see what Ella has in there. I'll ask her to have dinner for us at 1800 hours." I looked at him doing my impression of a blank face until he converted it for me. "Six o'clock, Babe. We'll eat dinner at six."

I smiled that he got the point and dashed to the break room before he said something to me about learning to understanding military time. I picked up a cup of yogurt from the refrigerator and stood there looking at it trying to decide if I was really going to eat yogurt as a snack. Lester came in and saw me standing there debating the necessity of the act and decided to intervene. Grabbing a box of cereal from the cabinet, he held his hand out for my yogurt. "It helps if you break up the texture," he instructed spooning the white gloppy stuff into a cup and pouring the cereal on top. He stuck a spoon in it and handed it back.

"I had no idea what skills you had in the kitchen," I teased him.

He wagged his eyebrows at me and replied, "If you think this is something you should see my skills in the bedroom."

Both of us jumped when Ranger's hard voice spoke from the doorway. "How about you show me your skills on the mats at 0500?" He disappeared as quietly as he came, leaving me to wonder why Lester just got called to the mats. He was only fixing me a snack, why was that such an offense?

Lester must have understood my struggle. "It's because I was flirting with his woman. I know better, but you're just so easy to get a reaction from sometimes that I can't help myself."

I walked past him, pretending to take offense and said, "I'm not his woman, and I'm not easy."

I retreated quickly to my cubicle and pretended to be engrossed in running a search while thinking over what Lester said. I knew he was kidding about the reaction part, but this wasn't the first time I'd been called Ranger's woman. I'd never understood what that was supposed to mean. He'd made it perfectly clear that I could be his friend, his employee, and his partner in bed if I could handle a physical only connection. But I could not have his heart or share his life, which was all it took to keep from taking him up on the sharing a bed thing. Why would he go through the trouble of defining our non-relationship to me just to turn around and pretend to the guys that we have something? I can't believe guys try to say that women are the more confusing sex.

I called my mom to let her know about the fact I was going to stay at RangeMan for a few days since someone had broken into my apartment. Since Ranger seemed convinced I was in danger I told my mom I wouldn't be able to come by for a while so she wouldn't start the daily doses of guilt on my voice mail. I couldn't risk the stalker following me and hurting my family as a way to send a message to Ranger.

I wasn't sure if I should be proud of the fact I knew exactly what steps to take now that another stalker was in the picture, or upset that I'd had so many of them the next steps were second nature to me. I lead a strange life.

"True," came Bobby's voice from behind me. "But you handle it all amazingly well."

I put my hand over my heart and spun around in my desk chair. "Make some noise will ya?" I said, trying to keep from having a heart attack at the surprise of him sneaking up on me.

He smiled and leaned against the wall of my cubicle. "I'm sorry I scared you. I heard you talking, so I figured you were talking to me and expected a response."

"No, I guess that thought slipped out without me meaning to do it," I confessed, figuring Bobby already thought I was crazy so another piece of evidence wasn't exactly going to tip the scales either way.

"We all love it when you do that," he admitted with a smile before walking away.

I leaned back in my chair giving up on the idea of actually running the search that I had propped up on my keyboard. It's nice to know I amused them all. That thought reminded me of Ranger's claim that he kept me around because I was entertainment. I leaned back in my chair and put my hand over my eyes thinking, 'Arrggh, It would be nice to be more than just entertainment.'

Once more a voice interrupted my thoughts and scared the shit out of me. "I think you're a lot more than just entertainment."

I jerked my head back up and tried to ignore the whiplash like pain that shot down my neck at the quick movement. "Tank, don't sneak up on people!" I lashed out.

He smiled, and his pearly teeth were framed by his large dark lips. "Sorry Ms. Plum, but you were talking and I assumed you knew I was here."

My hand was still resting on my chest as I responded, "First of all, don't call me Ms. Plum. We've been over this before – I'm just Stephanie. And secondly, I think my editor has left the building so that every thought I have is coming out of my mouth without a filter."

He laughed and replied, "I was just coming by to let you know that Hal came back with some bags from your apartment, and I had all the stuff taken up to Ranger's apartment on seven. If there's anything else you need or want, just let me know and I'll send one of the guys over to pick it up for you."

I nodded that I'd heard him. "I'm sure it will be fine. This will just be for a few days anyway."

He looked at me as though he didn't agree with that assumption. Then he added, "Thanks for doing this for the Boss. He really didn't want to involve you, but there was no other way we could flush this stalker out any sooner."

My face fell at the idea that Ranger didn't really want my help; it's just that he was that desperate. "Don't worry; I'll try not to screw anything up, and then I'll be out of everyone's way when this is all over."

His expression shifted to one of complete confusion. "Nobody thought you would screw anything up, and I don't think any of us want you to leave when it's over. We like you, and Ranger loves having you close by, so as far as we're concerned -other than not liking the fact that someone is gunning for our leader, this is a great arrangement."

Without giving me a chance to respond he turned and walked away. I wasn't sure what to say to that anyway, so I was glad to not be on the spot for a comment. The guys liked having me around and thought it was a great arrangement? What in the hell was that supposed to mean? I glanced at my watch and saw that I'd wasted enough time at my desk that I could go upstairs and see what Hal grabbed from my apartment. I couldn't picture him talking to Ella and trying to find what she was describing – especially not when it came to my lingerie or shoes.

As soon as I walked in Ranger's apartment I realized why Tank's expression changed when I said this was only going to be for a few days. There were eight duffle bags sitting in a row in front of Ranger's couch. When I walked in the bathroom there were three boxes of supplies, and in the closet were two large bags filled with shoes. Either the guys thought this was going to take months, or Hal just got tired of trying to find specific items and packed literally every item of clothes, shoes, and personal care products in my house. I wanted to believe it was the later because of the sheer amount of stuff I now needed to find a place for, but in looking through the shoes, I knew he hadn't brought them all. How long was this going to take?

I grabbed a pad of paper from Ranger's office and made a quick list of questions for Ranger to discuss over dinner. I knew he gave out details on a need to know basis, but my need to know just increased. I wanted to help him, but I needed to fully understand what I had gotten myself into. And clothes spoke of a level of seriousness that notes from stalkers couldn't truly communicate.

I heard the lock of the door release and knew Ranger was coming in. The last question I wrote down suddenly didn't seem as important so I crossed it off, hoping he couldn't make out what I had been thinking. Clearly my head and heart were still arguing about how I should handle this rare opportunity to be close to Ranger. Now was not the time to have my control snap. Ranger gave me a half smile at the sight of me sitting at the table over the pad of paper while chewing on the end of a pen.

"Babe," he said walking toward me with his typical sexy swagger.

One word and I could feel my heart beating faster and jumping at the change to gag and hog tie my mind. Control is highly overrated anyway.


	3. Trying for Clarity

_I deserve no credit for shamelessly using JE's creation for my own fun._

_Amy (beancounter74) thank you so much for filling as the beta for this chapter. Great friend, great beta, great reading buddy – who could ask for anything more?_

**Chapter 3 – Trying for Clarity**

_Ranger's POV_

I walked into the apartment and took a quick inventory of all the bags the guys brought over from Stephanie's apartment. It was a bit more than I was expecting, but I wanted her to have everything she'd need so it didn't bother me. I was concerned about the look on Stephanie's face as she sat hunched over a pad of paper at the table frantically scratching out something she'd written and then putting the pen in her mouth and chewing on it as though she were trying to work out some difficult calculus problem.

"Babe," I said, wondering what she was thinking about so hard.

Her eyes glazed over and her face took on a beautiful pink tent as her cheeks lightly blushed. I would love to know what was going on in her mind right now. She shook her head as though the movement would help to clear it and then said, "What did Ella tell Hal to bring? Over half of my wardrobe is here!"

I had a brief image of Hal trying to go through Steph's drawers looking for things like a black garter belt with a pink rose on the front, or a tank top that is stretchy, but not one that was too low cut. I'd bet anything he just opened the drawers and started pulling most everything out to keep from having to sort it out by himself. I would give him some shit about it, but I'm actually relieved to know he wasn't going through her stuff. If anyone is going to have their hands in Steph's lingerie, it should be me.

I stopped in front of her and looked at the tablet. She'd been writing some questions about the stalker and the plan. They were logical questions which impressed me. She had to think through a situation in order to come up with her own viewpoint of it. My old commander would have called her a post-reactor. When she was in the heat of stress she just kept functioning. Once it was all over she would stop and analyze what happened and either fall apart or come up with a plan. It was a great quality that would have benefited her if she'd ever been in a combat situation.

"Why don't we grab some dinner from what Ella left for us, and then we can go through your questions so that you have all the information you need," I told her, wanting to be sure she felt like she was a part of this and I wasn't just forcing things upon her. If the time she was engaged in the conference room taught me anything it was that Steph was tired of people informing her what she was going to do. She wanted to be included or at the very least asked what she wanted.

Ella had brought up a fish stew with vegetables. Stephanie turned her nose up at it, but I asked her to at least give it a try and then opened my cupboard to show her the groceries I'd asked Ella to pick up to make her feel more at home. There were assorted junk foods both sweet and savory, white bread, peanut butter and a jar of green olives. Knowing she had a fall back meal made her more willing to taste the stew. I didn't need to ask if she liked it when her eyes closed and her shoulders relaxed. Of course the soft sound of delight that she made also drove the point home. That peanut butter wasn't going to be needed tonight.

Once she was half way through her meal, she picked up the tablet and started reading off her questions. Initially they centered around the show we were going to put on, how serious we needed to look, how long I thought it would take, and if I had any idea who the stalker was or why they were gunning for me.

"I have no idea how long it will take to flush them out. The fact we have absolutely nothing to go off of is making it harder to guess. As for how serious we look in public, I'll leave that up to you, but I can tell you that they will be watching if their previous communications are any judge. The more our relationship appears to have a physical element, the faster we are likely to get a response."

"Just a physical element?" she asked. When I didn't respond she clarified, "I mean, if they want you for themselves, I would think an emotional element would get a response more quickly."

"But how do you show an emotional element?" I pushed her trying to make the point they are one in the same from behind the lens of a camera.

She thought for a minute and then blew me away. "A physical element would be what you have always done; just sex, but no relationship. You know, 'a condom but no ring.' If something happened to me, I could easily be replaced with another willing female. But an emotional attachment would show that you would be upset if I specifically was out of the picture. It's the little things like talking or enjoying each others' company. A physical relationship is a quick meal and then leaving to get to a bed. An emotional one is lingering over dinner because the conversation and banter is just as much a part of the foreplay as the removal of our clothes later."

I lifted my napkin to wipe the corner of my mouth despite the fact I knew there was nothing there. Then I quickly put it back in my lap, careful to cover the evidence of what that description did to me. I'd tried to keep Stephanie in a physical only relationship, but my heart desperately wanted more. It wanted to hold her hand and take long walks just to be able to talk to her. I wanted to find out all the secrets of making her eyes change color from the pale blue when she was sad to the deep sapphire when she was furious. I wanted to linger over a meal and hear all the thoughts that she would begin to voice aloud when she got a glass or two of wine in her.

I finally cleared my throat forcing those unproductive thoughts to the back of my mind and replied, "Then we'll have to find a way to make it look as though we're committed on every possible level. But, you know I'm not exactly a relationship expert, so you may need to speak up to be sure we are covering all the bases."

She smiled as though I'd given her a compliment and nodded before moving on to inform me how she'd put off visiting her parents for a while in order to reduce the possibility of them being pulled into this mess. I told her I had arranged for Hector to discretely add some cameras to their house, which would be added to the monitor cue to watch over; her relief was evident. It struck me how much weight she carries as concern for other people, and how little credit she gets for that. She willingly puts herself into dangerous situations to protect others and they rarely see the sacrifice she is making. I doubted she would accept the compliment, so I tucked it away as one of those things only I knew about her.

We finished our meal and the rest of her questions and by the time we cleared away the dishes I realized two hours had passed. I guess Stephanie was right when she said an emotional attachment allowed you to lose track of time just getting lost in the conversation itself. I wanted to know every thought in her head, and when we were alone like this and my guard was down it was so comfortable and comforting.

Steph announced she was going to try and put away some of her clothes and would see about finding a storage closet somewhere in the building to put all the things Hal brought that she didn't really need. I had asked Ella to clean out my closet and make one full side available to her. Hopefully that would be enough room for most of her things.

I picked up the tablet where her questions were written and took it back to my office. While my computer was booting up I glanced at the list and smiled at the progression of her thoughts. The final question she'd written and then scratched out. I tried to read it but couldn't make out anything from the scratch through so I lifted the top page and took a pencil to rub over the indentations on the sheet under it. Her original words were written harder and pushed through, but her scratches were lighter and didn't impact the original text as much; with a little creativity and squinting I was able to piece together her last question. 'After capturing the skip how do I go back to normal life without Ranger?'

It was an odd question. Did she mean how did we explain the sudden lack of a relationship after portraying one for a period of time publicly, or was she asking something more personal? Would she miss me? Did this mean that after pushing her away every time she got too close to me that she still harbored feelings for me beyond our attraction? As if this whole stalker thing wasn't complicated enough. How was I supposed to keep an emotional distance from her while pretending to be emotionally attached? And if we were convincing enough about our relationship publicly would that begin to bleed into our real lives?

I had spent many nights letting my mind wonder and dream about what it would be like to have Stephanie in my life completely. For us to not have any Morelli or Burg interference and to share the work at RangeMan and build up a private life that included her. I could always easily picture our sex life. She was a passionate woman and the time we'd spent together in the past convinced me we could have one hell of a physical relationship. I doubted it would ever get old and I had a feeling she might even enjoy some of the less traditional things I would expose her to over time.

But the parts that brought me the most enjoyment to dwell on were the possibilities of sharing something normal with her. The fighting over what movie to watch, brushing her hair away from her face when she was sick and having someone fuss over me when I came down with something too. The idea of her coming into my office and night and insisting I stop thinking about RangeMan and start thinking about her. I never wanted a clingy woman, but I didn't think Steph had it in her to be clingy; she was way too independent for that. I wanted someone to love me enough to stand up to me when I had my priorities out of whack, and the only person I knew that was capable of doing that effectively was Stephanie.

With that in mind, I shut off my computer without even opening the first application and I walked over to my bookshelf and removed a small brown leather case and brought it to the bedroom where Steph was mumbling about missing shoes. "Babe," I interrupted her. "You're surrounded by at least thirty pairs of shoes, what could possibly be missing?"

She looked at me like I'd just asked her the strangest question. "Ranger, if I went into your gun safe and randomly pulled out half your weapons are you telling me you wouldn't recognize what was missing from your total inventory?"

"Sure I would, but I depend on those weapons on a daily basis so I have a complete list of what should be in there at all times," I clarified as though the two examples were worlds apart.

She quickly put me in my place. "And I have the same type of relationship with my shoes. I have some that are practical and serve a daily purpose, others that I need for a specific goal or job like a distraction, and then I have a collection that I turn to for mood enhancement. Sometimes the right shoe choice is all it takes to adjust my attitude and none of my real attitude shoes are here. I mean, Hal got all my practical shoes; my sneakers and lace up boots, and he seems to have a thing for my distraction and gravity defying shoes, but he didn't get any of my mood shoes. And if I'm going to be stuck in the building for long periods of time, I'm going to need some of those other shoes."

"I'll take you to your apartment tomorrow and we'll get whatever shoes you need," I told her, seeing it from her point of view even if I didn't fully understand how a pair of heels could make a difference in how she felt. The bottom line was all that mattered here, and she wanted something that was in my power to give her. There was really nothing to consider.

She noticed what I had in my hand and turned her head to the side like a puppy trying to make sense out of its master talking. "What's in that case?"

I looked down having briefly forgotten why I came in here in the first place. "Have you ever played dominoes?" Saying it out loud made me a little nervous that she wasn't going to want to play.

"Not as a game. Valerie and I had some, but we used them to stand up and then topple over instead of using them as they are supposed to be used," she confessed.

I motioned for her to follow me as we moved to the living room and I opened the case and began pulling out the dominoes explaining how to play. She was eager to learn and before long we were laughing and playing at the same time. When the conversation died down I decided to share something about myself. "My Abuela Rosa was married to Abuelo Carlos. He used to play dominoes with other men of his age that came to America from Cuba. When I lived with them in Miami he would allow me to come and watch them play but he told me to just sit and watch, not to speak. Part of it was a cultural thing to show respect to my elders, but when we would leave he would ask me what I saw. I'd describe the way one man tried to cheat, or the way another was more interested in watching the women walk by than playing the game. We would discuss my observations and he would make comments about his friends. It's how I learned to read people. Right before I left for the Army he invited me to go with him and for the first time in my life he indicated I should sit at the table instead of beside him near the playing surface. Being included in that game was the first time I felt like a man. There was a sense of being accepted and wanted when he let me play with his friends. Abuelo Carlos died a few months later before I made anything of my life, but I attribute the sense of pride and awareness that I took with me into basic training to the lessons he gave me over a game of dominoes."

While I talked, I watched Stephanie's eyes unable to look away as they shifted from her normal color to something much darker. There were flecks of a lighter shade illuminating darker tint to give the illusion that they were sparkling. It never ceased to amaze me that when Stephanie listened to you talk she did so in a way that made you feel like every word you said was important and she didn't want to miss a thing.

"Thank you for telling me about your grandfather," she said in a soft voice. It was a tender sound, almost a caress to my ears. I wasn't sure why I had believed talking about my life was difficult.

We played and talked for another hour until my cell phone vibrated. I flipped it open, not at all pleased with the interruption. "Report," I barked out to whoever had disturbed my evening. "Boss," Bobby's voice broke through my irritation and I listened to him succinctly give the reason for his call. "Take down on Stark tonight had an unexpected surprise from the young gang, the Panthers. They showed up after we got our mark in cuffs and opened fire. Vince took one to the shoulder and should be fine, but Brett took one in the groin. It hit a major artery and he nearly bled out. He's in surgery now, but until they're done I can't call it either way. He's lost a lot of blood and his vitals were all over the place. It's going to be a long night."

I asked a few more questions and hung up promising to head over to St. Francis, knowing they would need my signature on his intake forms. Before I hung up Stephanie had repacked the dominoes in their case and disappeared. When I hit end on the phone she came out of my office with my boots in her hands where I'd taken them off earlier. It was refreshing to feel like someone was looking out for my needs and I thanked her and began lacing up my boots while giving her the details of what happened to Brett.

She looked down at her outfit of jeans and a round neck t-shirt and asked if she could come too. Anytime Steph heard about one of the guys ending up at the hospital she always made it a point to check in on them. They were her guys even if they didn't realize it. It was late enough that I doubted my stalker would be an issue so I agreed to let her ride along figuring I could have one of the guys bring her back if the night went too long.

When we walked in the ER waiting area I went straight to Bobby who had blood on his shirt and pants. He looked tired. While I got the briefing from him in more detail Steph walked over to the nurses' station and talked to the young girl behind the counter. She came back over just as Bobby finished talking and handed him a short can of ginger ale. Bobby took it and popped the top, guzzling it down greedily. While he was drinking she began digging through her bag and pulled out a Snicker's and granola bar holding them both out to him. He looked at her and smiled before grabbing the granola and saying, "The pop will have enough sugar in it for now, but thanks for noticing."

Bobby excused himself to go let the admissions department know I was here in case they needed anything more than he had given them. I took his departure as an opportunity to ask what that was between him and Stephanie.

She shrugged as though it was nothing important. "I know that when Bobby's tired his blood sugar tends to drop so I got him a soda from the nurse and then offered him something to eat to help give him a boost. I noticed one day when he brought me in after a distraction where a skip got the better of me that he monitored everything I might need, but he never got himself something to drink or eat. He confessed that he gets wrapped up in the moment and often forgets to take care of himself and then if it goes to far his pupils dilate, he gets shaky, and it takes him an hour to get everything evened out again. I noticed I couldn't see any color to his eyes when we walked in, so I figured he might be nearing a crash and wanted to give him a little something to stop that from happening."

I couldn't stop myself from pulling her to me and enveloping her in my arms. There is an ancient code among warriors that says if you care for my brothers you care for me. She might not realize it, but by watching over my men I felt as though she was loving me as surely as if she'd gotten the drink for me to consume. How in the hell I was supposed to resist her when she acted like this was beyond me. We needed to get a bead on my stalker quickly before I gave up fighting and just gave myself to Stephanie. If I connected to her anymore I worried that I might not be able to put the distance back when it became necessary.

Eddie and Carl from the PD came in and looked around before walking over. When Stephanie noticed them she tensed. I put it off as her not liking the intrusion or the reminder that something bad happened in the field tonight. She pulled away from me which I allowed, but didn't like. I managed to find some of the control I usually felt flowing through me in order to keep from pulling her back where she had been.

I noticed her looking around with a worried look on her face and heard Eddie say, "It's alright Steph, it's just us tonight." She smiled at his words and thanked him before excusing herself to find out if Bobby had heard anything.

As soon as she was far enough away I lowered my voice and asked, "What was that about?"

Eddie glanced over his shoulder and Carl walked over to the girl behind the desk and leaned over to talk to her like they were old friends. Eddie matched my volume and replied, "She's just trying to avoid Joe for a while."

"That much I know," I told him. "What I don't know is why."

Eddie made a face as though he wasn't sure if it was his place to talk to me. He was a good friend to Steph and I could see why she liked him based on his loyalty to her now. Finally he said, "I think it's up to her to tell you why it isn't comfortable around him."

"That's fair," I told him understanding his hesitation. "But can you at least tell me if I need to have a security presence mirroring her for safety reasons around him."

Eddie paused before answering which was more than enough of a reply. Eventually he said, "No, I don't think there is any chance of him hurting her now. But I don't blame her for wanting to avoid him just the same. Joe's going to be leaving town in three weeks on assignment and I think that separation will do them both some good."

"Did he hurt her?" I asked as a growl.

Eddie glanced behind himself once more before answering, "They hurt each other, but her wound to him was the kind that got his pride and his in return was the kind to leave a scar. She sees they should never be together as more than friends and he's struggling to admit that because it would mean accepting that it was his fault. I don't think he's as opposed to them ending as it is the fact that they are ending for this reason."

It didn't completely understand what he meant, but what he was implying was enough to make my blood boil. If I was interpreting him correctly he was saying that Joe had physically hurt Stephanie. If that was case, I couldn't figure out how I wasn't aware of it. I'd been growing increasingly worried about Joe when he got a promotion and began working longer hours. He was still doing quality detective work which meant he didn't have much time to decompress after crime scenes and working his cases. I was worried that to keep himself level that he might be drinking more to keep the edge off. Knowing the Morelli reputation for what happened when they drank to excess had me watching her more closely.

Eddie ripped me from my current thoughts by bringing out his black notebook and asking for details about Brett and Vince and the skip they were bringing in. I answered his questions and referred the rest to Tank who had walked over during our conversation. Tank had the file in hand so he was able to finish up with Eddie to complete the report.

Bobby came over with a smiling Steph and they reported that the surgeon had come out and said Brett made it through surgery and with the transfusion they began he hoped he would continue to stabilize. If all went well overnight he could downgraded from critical in the morning and then they would reassess his prognosis.

I passed the news along to Tank and told him to get the rotation up for guarding Brett's room. We were about to leave but Steph pulled my arm and said, "The doctor said I could see him for a few minutes so I'm going to check on him and then I'll meet you back here."

I nodded and turned back to Tank. As soon as she disappeared he raised an eyebrow at me and waited. "What?" I asked, impatient to get this conversation over with.

"Do you know what you're doing?" He challenged me in a way no else would dare to.

"She's not in any danger in the hospital and there are already guys outside the door so she'll be fine," I said as a defense for letting her walk away.

He rolled his eyes and I wondered how much of an influence Steph had on my men. "I mean, you know she has feelings for you, right?" I nodded unwilling to have a discussion about emotions with Tank. "And you know having her at your side all the time is only going to encourage that, right?"

"What are you, Dr. Phil?" I asked, annoyed at where he was trying to take this.

"Screw you, man, that girl's special and you can't mess with her. If you are going to keep her at arm's length, then spell it out now. And if you're going to let her in then make that decision and get started. But, she's so confused about you saying one thing and doing another that she doesn't know what to think." I wanted to say something witty and biting but all I could think was that was damn good advice. Now all I had to do was figure out which one was the right move.

"Oh," Tank added as an afterthought. "And if you decide to push her away then you need to get over this 'my woman' thing you've been sporting. You can't call the guys to the mats for disrespecting her when you are doing it yourself." With that my second in command walked away and left me there wondering what in the hell just happened. I hadn't been handed my ass to me so succinctly since I told my Abuela Rosa about getting Rachel pregnant.

Bobby came over as soon as Tank left and decided the bandwagon wasn't full enough. "I see that you decided to use Stephanie to lure out your stalker and I'm cool with that, but keeping her at your side all the time is going to complicate things."

Was he arguing that I shouldn't try to open up to her? "If you are going to keep her on the fringe of your life then you need to make that clear now. And if you're going to let her in then you need to remember that there is a group of us watching you and if you hurt her we'll step in to set things right."

He walked away before I could ask if that meant they'd take care of Stephanie, or put me in my place for hurting her? How was I supposed to figure out what I should if I was surrounded by alphas all looking for their chance to step in at my first mistake?

I sat down and rubbed a hand over my face. I had kept my life devoid of relationships because it kept things simple, but having my guys trying to advise and warn me wasn't the simplicity I was going for. It was nearing 2400 hours. Maybe I was so uncertain of what I should do because I was tired. The whole idea of having a stalker was tiring and the injuries to my guys weren't helping. Maybe all I needed was a good night's sleep and a hard workout in the morning to make sense out of this situation.

I looked up and saw Steph coming down the hall toward me. When our eyes met she smiled and I couldn't stop myself from returning the expression which only lit her face up all the more. Despite her glittering grin, her eyes still looked tired to me. Maybe a good night's sleep would help her too. We walked out to the Porsche waiting at the curb where Tank had brought it up and I navigated us to Haywood quickly.

The ride up in the elevator was silent but when Steph announced, "I'm going to slip into the shower and then I'll be ready for bed," my previous exhaustion disappeared. My body was definitely awake, and parts of me were more alert than others. So much for a good night's sleep.


	4. Dreams

_All the credit for the characters below belongs to JE, not me._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) thank you so much for your hard work as the beta on this story. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for your news._

**Chapter 4 – Dreams**

_Stephanie's POV_

I was standing in front of the Tasty Pasty surrounded by the staff that had waited on me over the years. They were naming me their customer of the year, and in my honor they had created a Boston Cream doughnut that was five feet in circumference. To the side was a step ladder, and I was being encouraged to climb up to the top of the ladder and literally jump into the center of the pastry to eat my way out. The fact that I was wearing my favorite pair of jeans, and they weren't snug at the top should have been an indicator that I was just dreaming, but I didn't seem to notice that fact as the staff began to clap and chant my name. Giving into their demands and the temptation of the world's biggest doughnut, I jumped off the top of the ladder and fell into the cushioning of the soft treat below. I slipped through the chocolate frosted top and floated in the creamy center as I began to lick and nibble at the edge closest to my face. This was the most delicious thing I'd ever tasted, and it was still warm, which only made it all the more delicious.

But then it began to move, like it was trying to get away from me. I was confused about why my award was trying to escape, and then I got angry about it. I was tired of things in my life being taken from me, so to show my displeasure I opened my mouth wide and took a big bite, bringing my teeth down hard trying to take as much in as possible before my breakfast was ripped from me. What I hadn't counted on was the doughnut yelling out as though I'd hurt it. I'd never had my food talk to me before, and honestly the experience was more than a little frightening.

Before I could get too worked over it I felt someone shaking me and calling my name, demanding I wake up. As I began to move from my strange dream to the reality of waking up I realized I was definitely not in the middle of a giant Boston Cream, but was in the buttery soft comfort of Ranger's sheets instead. My eyes snapped open in horror as I realized that also meant the delicious pastry I had been biting was in fact Ranger.

I moved back from him where I had attached myself to his side at some point during the night and pulled the sheet up as though I had something to hide. I was in pajamas, but I still felt mortified at the idea of having not only thrown myself at Ranger, but apparently trying to eat him while I was dreaming too.

"Babe," he said rubbing his chest with the hand that had been freed when I put the space between us so abruptly. "If you want to play rough, I'm all for that, but next time wait until I'm awake to bite." He was trying to make a joke out of my mortification, and I appreciated the effort, but I was so far beyond embarrassed that I couldn't even form words. I lifted my hand to cover my mouth as though I thought my mouth might try to take another taste of his chest if I didn't put another barrier between us.

He stood up revealing the fact he was in the silk boxers that I thought always stayed in his dresser. For some reason the thought of him wearing them while we slept was disappointing. I guess he was trying to keep some distance between us as well. As that thought dug into my brain I finally got my voice and mouth to work together and said, "I'm so sorry Ranger. I didn't mean to bite you…I mean, I was dreaming and I didn't realize it was you." His face fell as I spoke. I had no idea why my words were upsetting him, which is probably why I kept talking instead of shutting up while there was still the slimmest chance I could keep my dignity in tact. "I was dreaming about jumping into a giant doughnut and trying to eat my way out. I guess my mouth thought you were the boston cream."

Unexpectedly, Ranger's face broke out in a huge grin, and he began to laugh. Not just a few chuckles, but a full, loud, head tossed back belly laugh that he was having trouble controlling. I tried not to get mad at him, but once again I was proving to be entertainment for Ranger, and I didn't like it any better this time than I had in the past.

He finally got a little of his legendary control back and said, "Babe, I'm definitely not a doughnut, but if you ever want a sample of my cream filling, all you have to do is ask." Before I could respond, he went into the bathroom and shut the door. Without his presence there to make me nervous I could see the humor in it and laughed a little too.

I decided to get out of bed even though it was still early. Ranger came out of the bathroom in his workout clothes and the blush that had left my cheeks returned with a vengeance. "I'm going down to the gym and will shower down there when I'm done. I've got a briefing on five and then we'll head over to the bonds office about ten to put in an appearance and try to be seen."

I was sure that we'd been seen, I just wasn't as certain that it would be by the stalker or just gossip mongers curious about the newest chapter of Stephanie Plum's life. I looked at the clock and saw it was nearly six o'clock, so I had plenty of time before we needed to leave.

After I heard the door to the apartment leave I shut myself in the bathroom, figuring there was no point in trying to go back to sleep. I looked around and saw Ella had put out my cosmetics and beauty supplies in a couple of baskets on the marble counter top at the sink. I sighed, wishing my life came with Ella full-time. Figuring I had hours to stay busy I decided to give myself a full treatment and began by using a facial mask Ella had purchased and then shaving my legs with the designer shaving cream sitting in my goodies. When I finished those two things I realized I had the smoothest legs ever, and my face without the green goop was baby bottom soft.

I took a long shower, washing and conditioning my hair, and then treating myself to Ranger's shower gel. From the moment I popped the top on the bottle I knew it was a mistake. Somewhere between dreaming of doughnuts, but not actually eating them, and spending the better part of the night pressed against his perfect body, my hormones had decided to come out and play. Now being surrounded by steam and smell of his gel I realized I was looking at his shower massager with a predatory gaze. I took it down from its hook on the wall and turned the head to switch it from a round spray to a pressurized blasting pulsating stream. My legs felt a little weak as I realized Ranger had the best of everything, which would, of course, mean he had the Cadillac of massagers as well.

Remembering he wasn't going to be back in the apartment for hours I sat on the little seat built into the corner of the shower and split my legs. Using one hand to separate my lips I slowly repositioned the spray to hit that oh so sensitive spot. My whole body jerked the second the pulses hit my skin. I reflexively moved it away and groaned. This was exactly what I needed to get rid of the tension I'd been carrying.

I shut my eyes and let my favorite fantasy come to life. It was so easy to do since the setting in my mind and in reality was one in the same. This time when the water hit my clit I sucked in a quick breath and then let it out with a moan. This felt so good. I imagined Ranger's hand in place of mine, and his tongue doing the work of the massager. Before I could get very far with my imagination I felt my body responding and could feel the muscles in my abs and legs tighten in anticipation. My neck even tingled like it did when he was close by, which only fueled the image in my mind. Unable to fight the urge I let the pleasure wash over me and held the pulsing water exactly where I needed it to be even as my orgasm came, which just made it that much more intense. I might have even said Ranger's name as I came. I wasn't sure if I did or not, but it was certainly his skill set I was thinking of when it happened.

I relaxed and moved the shower back to a round spray and held it against my neck and chest to allow the water to keep me warm while I enjoyed the idea that I had an orgasm because of Ranger in his bathroom. Meanwhile, he was downstairs looking at staffing reports and running morning meetings, none the wiser. I shut off the shower and dried off before opening the door to pick out some clothes and give my hair a chance to dry naturally before tackling my face for the day.

As soon as I opened the door my eyes landed on Ranger who was sitting on his bed with the strangest expression on his face. I gripped the towel I had around my chest, determined not to let it fall and complete my humiliation. "How long have you been here?" I asked, unsure I really wanted to hear the answer to that question.

He swallowed, which amused me for some reason because it almost seemed like it was painful for him to answer me. I took advantage of his brief distraction and looked him over, unable to miss the current state of his cargos. It appeared even though he was sitting down, part of him was definitely standing tall and proud. Ranger cleared his throat and a wicked smile came over his face as he said, "Long enough to hear my name bouncing off the tiles of the shower and realize I was too late to go in and reap the benefits of my extra large shower."

I had two choices at this moment. I could continue to cower and let my embarrassment make this one more example of how I was just entertainment, or I could pull up my Jersey girl attitude and say something witty in return. Figuring I'd had enough of people laughing at me to last a lifetime, I went with door number two and said, "You shouldn't get to reap any benefits since you didn't do the work. But I have to say, a girl could get used that shower and the fact that she has hours alone to enjoy it." Before he could respond, I walked into his closet and started looking through my clothes for an appropriate outfit.

I could sense Ranger standing in the doorway of the closet watching me, and from the corner of my eye I could see he had a curious expression on his face. Finally he said, "I'm going to take a shower, we'll leave in thirty minutes."

I didn't look at him, but felt I owed him the warning. "I'm sorry, but I probably used all the hot water."

As he walked away I thought he replied, "Wasn't planning on using it anyway."

When the water came on I found myself laughing at the idea that I might have just gotten to Batman. Maybe there was something to being a little more forthright about my activities around him. At the very least, my confident reply seemed to have unsettled him, and I couldn't remember when something had been that much fun. I was going to have to find some more opportunities to unleash my confident persona around him. Maybe it would result in me become more assertive and would have a fringe benefit of keeping Ranger off balance.

Forty-five minutes later we were sitting in one of the fleet SUVs in front of the bonds office. Ranger turned off the truck and turned in his seat slightly to face me and say, "I'm going to come around and open your door. Wait until I am standing between you and that building before stepping out so that my body is shielding yours. Then stay as close to me as possible while we walk into the office and then sit on the couch on the far side, away from the window."

I decided not to salute him or make fun of his over the top methods of trying to keep me safe while putting on some sort of public display. But I couldn't stop myself from asking, "Wouldn't it be more effective if we stayed at the truck for a little bit before running in? I know you want to keep me safe, but if the idea is to be seen in public, don't you think a few minutes actually in public would make sense?"

Ranger sat back and shut his eyes. I could have sworn he sighed, but that would be a very un-Ranger like thing to do, so I must have imagined it. "You're right, but I've spent so much time trying to keep you safe from stalkers that the idea of intentionally lingering to put you in the line of sight is counter intuitive."

"I'm sorry, did I hear you correctly. Did you just tell me I was right?" I couldn't help but tease.

He smiled as he glanced at me. "I said you were right, Babe."

"Then let's get this show on the road," I encouraged, waiting for him to walk around the SUV like he said, but planning out what was going to happen when he opened the door. When the door beside me opened I waited, and when he put his hand out for me to take it I reached out and grabbed his shirt as high as I could reach and with a fist full of cotton, I yanked him down to my level. Then I met his surprised look with the steadiest gaze I could manufacture and proceeded to lean toward his face and kiss him. The second my lips touched his my brain was literally cheering for the fact that I was kissing Batman. Sure, we'd done lip dances before, but for the first time I could remember, I was completely leading. I'd brought him to the dance floor and picked the music myself. He was off balance, but it only took a few minutes before he felt the beat and kissed me back. Sooner than my hormones wanted, but probably a few seconds past common decency, we broke apart and I released his shirt from my fist and licked my lips while our faces were a mere inches from each other. "I think that will do for a public showing," I said before moving to get out of the car.

Ranger stepped back and recovered quickly, but before that blank face flamed down his expression was a priceless one of shock. Score one for me! I had no idea how much fun it would be to keep Ranger off balance. I think I might have stumbled across a new purpose for my time during this whole stalker gig.

Ranger put one hand on my back and the other he wrapped around my hip to keep me from moving away from him. I still didn't like the idea of him using his body as a shield for mine, but I knew there was no point in wasting my breath complaining about it.

When we walked in the office you could have heard a pin drop. Lula was standing up, watching us with her mouth open, nearly displaying the partially eaten bite of chicken from the bucket she was holding against her more than filled out orange spandex top. The neck line was scooped, and there was enough cleavage showing to make you wonder if the forces pushing her breasts up and together could maintain that pressure all day, or if something was going to snap loose at any moment.

Ranger guided us to the couch and sat in the middle, pulling me to his side away from the window. I leaned against him to let him know I wasn't going to fight the place he wanted me to sit. Connie snapped out of her silent stupor first and asked, "Are you two here to pick up RangeMan's files?"

Ranger nodded yes, and Connie began pulling manila folders together to give to him. Seeing Connie come to life must have given Lula the push she needed to find her voice too. She walked around to lean against the front of the desk directly in front of us and said, "Which one of you is going to tell us what's going on? Cause something is going on, and we want details."

I looked up and met Ranger's eye, hoping he pick up the hint that I needed him to do the talking. It was one thing to take the initiative with Ranger, but it something else entirely to try and be bold around Lula. She was one of my closest friends, but honestly when she was convinced there was a story to be had, she didn't give up. There was hungry gleam in her eye now that had nothing to do with the bucket of chicken she just sat down on top of the stack of RangeMan files.

Ranger put his arm over my shoulder and looked at Lula, "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know what you're doing with my girl?" She started, giving him a serious face to let him know he wasn't going to get away with a simple one word answer.

"I'm spending as much time with her as I can," he surprised us both by responding.

"Why?" She pushed. "You just going to get her hopes up, and then send her back to the cop again?" Ranger winced slightly when she said that, which gave her the opportunity to add, "Cause I can tell you that she ain't going back to the cop again. It takes more than a tight ass to keep a girl happy, and right now that's all he's got going for him."

Ranger's eyes narrowed, as though he had a few questions of his own that he wanted to ask. I decided to step in because there were some things I didn't want to explain to him right now. "If you want to know exactly what's happening, we can't tell you."

"Because it's classified or some super spy shit?" She asked suspiciously.

"No," Ranger stopped that train of thought, even though it was true. "Because we don't know exactly what this is ourselves. Neither of us are good with labels, but there is something happening here, and we aren't going to question it or analyze it, we're just going with it."

Damn, when he put it like that I was completely on board. Lula seemed to be thinking over what he said. "So you two are together? You aren't going out chasing other women, and you don't want to see her with other men?"

There was no hesitation at all for Ranger's response. "There will be no others for either of us." I looked at his face, and he seemed to be completely sincere. There was no trace of his blank face, but there was an intensity that told me he really didn't like the idea of seeing me with another man. I'd have to think about why that was some other time.

My right hand moved without my permission and landed on his thigh. In return, he took it in his free hand and gave me a squeeze while looking in my eyes. "You realize that sounds like we have a commitment to each other," I told him.

"Babe, there's never been a time that I wasn't committed to you," he said in a softer voice. His face wasn't blank, but the expression it held was so foreign to me that I couldn't begin to guess what it meant.

"I guess I missed that with the lectures you gave about you not doing relationships," I blurted out, sorry for my words as soon as the hurt registered on his face.

He let go of my hand to trail a finger down my jaw. "Believe it or not, there are times when I'm around you that I say things I later grow to regret. Those practiced responses made sense when spoken to people in the past, but with you I wasn't sure what to say, so I fell back to my old habits."

Lula picked that moment to speak up. "Damn white girl, you and Batman are for real. I figured you were just acting because of some stalker or some shit, but this ain't no acting right here. This is the real thing. You are one lucky woman."

I felt like a lucky woman. It definitely didn't seem like Ranger was acting, but he was so proficient at everything he did that I wasn't sure I would know the difference. I did know that when he touched me and looked in my eyes to say he regretted what he'd said about relationships in the past that my heart began to beat in a strange way. I could feel my cheeks blushing, knowing that Lula expected a response of some sort. "Yes, I guess I am," I eventually mumbled.

"So then tell us what's it like to have a superhero in bed?" She pushed, taking my face from a light blush to a full fledged fire truck imitation.

Ranger's chest moved like he was fighting a laugh. Then he spoke up, "A superhero?"

"You always seem like one to me," I confessed.

"But you realized I don't jump over tall buildings in a single bound," he told me, and then lowered his voice into the sexiest sound I'd ever heard to say, "And I'm definitely not faster than a speeding bullet."

I was convinced the heat from my face alone was going to make me combust at any moment. Connie jumped in to save the day by announcing that the files were ready for RangeMan. Ranger took them from her and sat back down beside me to look through them quickly.

Connie took his moment of distraction to say, "The grapevine is going crazy about you and Joe."

"I don't care what they say. There is no me and Joe, and there never will be again," I insisted, trying to tell Connie to let this drop by giving her an intense look with my eyes.

"I'm just saying that Terri Gilman was bragging about the fact that now that Joe was free the two of them could be together in public and wouldn't have to sneak around any more. But the word from the Family is that Terri's uncle is none too happy about her and Joe as a possible couple, and he wants to see you two back together to keep the cop from getting too comfortable around his favorite niece." Connie ignored my glare and reported. "Word is he's eager to make you an offer that you can't refuse, and he's come up with a secret piece of leverage to make sure you take his deal."

I shivered at the implied threat, knowing when Connie spoke of family she meant it with a capital F, indicating connections that I could never understand or live to tell about. Ranger looked up and glanced between Connie and me before saying, "We need to get back to the office so I can hand these out to the guys."

I was more than glad to get out of the office before Connie said anything else or Lula finished that bucket of chicken and decided to begin throwing out questions about me and Ranger having sex.

He took my hand and stepped out in front of me, keeping his arm stiff and his hand tight around mine to keep me behind him as we walked to the truck. He opened the door and stood there shielding me from view. I was about to get in when he spoke up, "What no show before we leave?"

It seemed like he was teasing, but I couldn't help myself and asked, "I guess I wasn't in the mood to kiss you just for show."

His joking smile fell completely off his face and he stepped closer, putting his hands on my hips to hold me firmly against him. "Babe, there are some things we are going to have to do in order to flush out my stalker, but rest assured that every time I kiss you, the meaning has nothing to do with who is watching."

With that he leaned down and brushed his lips over mine slowly, barely touching me, but allowing the heat of his breath to tickle as he passed by. My tongue slipped out to wipe off the tickling sensation, and he must has assumed that was consent as his lips crashed down on mine and his hands moved up my back to press our chests together. By the time we pulled apart I was struggling to get enough air in my lungs, and he had a hand so tightly tangled in my hair I wasn't sure he could get it back out.

No words were spoken as we pulled apart and he guided me into the vehicle and shut the door. We may not have said anything else, but I had a feeling that kiss had done a lot of communicating. Now all I had to do was figure out what we'd said.

We drove to Haywood in silence, and I waited for him to come around and open my door to step out. He nodded his approval that I was following protocol and took my hand in his. He hit five in the elevator, and we rode up in silence to the main floor. Tank met us when we stepped off the elevator. He was holding a plain white envelope that I knew immediately contained bad news.

Ranger raised an eyebrow and Tank said only, "It looks like you two have gotten some attention." He turned and led us to the conference room, shutting the door after we entered and motioning for us to have a seat.

"Everything is identical to the previous deliveries, no prints, no identifiable marks, no clues about where it came from," Tank reported, handing the envelope to Ranger to open.

I leaned closer, not bothering to hide my curiosity about what was in the package. There was a single white sheet of paper that said, 'My directions were clear. You have chosen to disregard them, so what happens next is to teach you that I'm deadly serious about obedience.' Ranger's jaw was working so hard I worried he was going to file down his teeth. He reached in and pulled out three photos. One was of the kiss we shared in front of the bonds office yesterday. It was zoomed in tightly so that it was obvious we were really kissing and not just pressing our mouths together in a faked sign of intimacy. The next one was of us holding hands taken through the window of the bonds office. The final shot was of me alone through the windshield of the SUV as we drove away. It was zoomed in close and I was glancing over to Ranger with a dreamy expression on my face. In my defense, he had just kissed me and I doubted any woman could instantly snap back to reality after something like that.

"What do you think about going out tonight Boss?" Tank asked, bringing us both back to the present.

"We will still go, but I want you to station Lester and Bobby in the restaurant at tables near ours, and I want the presence outside to be double what we originally planned. We'll need someway to cover the restroom to insure there is nothing waiting there and make sure our reservation is for the table in the northeast corner. There are no windows with a direct view of that corner, and it's near the kitchen, so we could exit through the rear when we're finished to allow us to better secure the car," Ranger instructed clearly, having a mind for strategy that I'd never understand.

"Are you okay with going out to dinner tonight with the enhanced security?" He asked, turning to me.

I didn't know what surprised me more, the fact that he was asking for my opinion or the fact that he seemed to think there was a chance I'd back out. "I trust you," I replied honestly. "If you say it's okay to go, then I'm okay with it."

He smiled at me before Tank cleared his throat. I wasn't sure if it was a signal to Ranger, or to keep us from getting so distracted he lost his chance to speak. Ranger glanced down briefly and then looked back up to me and said, "I've got to do some work down here. We'll leave tonight at 1900 hours for our reservation at Rossini's."

I knew I was being dismissed, and after doing the mental math to know it was pushing noon and we would be leaving at seven, I figured I could grab a bite from the break room, do a few searches to pass some time, and then head up to seven to get ready. Just because I'd taken a shower this morning didn't mean I was going to get gussied up without another one. Remembering the shower made me feel a little braver, so as I stood to walk out I couldn't help telling him my plan for the afternoon including, "I'll head up for a shower about five. You know how much I love your shower. I want to be sure I have enough time to enjoy myself before we leave."

I could have sworn Ranger's jaw literally fell open at my bold statement. Tank was looking between the two of us, but I turned quickly and dashed out of the conference room before anything was said in return. I knew Ranger was perfectly capable of turning the tables and saying something equally erotic and suggestive, and I wanted to be out of reach before he came up with a response.

Of course now that I'd mentioned the shower and what I did this morning, it was all I could think of. I grabbed a chicken salad sandwich from the break room and took that, along with a bottle of water, to my cubicle. My mind was focused on everything except the search in front of me. I took a bite of my lunch and groaned. This assignment was going to be the death of me between the healthy food and the close proximity to Ranger who was being so confusing I hardly knew what to think.

I remembered the cabinet in the kitchen on seven that had been converted to a contra-band cupboard for my stay and smiled. I might not be able to do anything about the cryptic Ranger from this morning, but at least I knew it was possible to circumvent the healthy food.


	5. Dinner

_I'm using JE's creation for my own fun. I don't get any credit for it._

_Fredda (Rangergirl1234) thank you so much for your amazing work as the beta on this story. _

**Chapter 5 – Dinner**

_Ranger's POV_

The door closed behind Stephanie and I was literally speechless trying to keep my jaw from falling any further open that it already was. I didn't know what had gotten into her today, but it was hot as hell and it was leaving me scratching my head trying to figure out how to respond.

Tank spoke first and said, "What's gotten into Bomber? She's acting different."

I made a sound of agreement, and then my mouth opened in a Stephanie like manner before I fully thought it out and I began, "She always been a force to be reckoned with, but now she's more…"

"More what?" He asked with a smile on his face, telling me he was enjoying my unease. When I didn't answer him he started supplying possible choices for me. "More complicated, more aggravating?" Neither of those fit, so he changed his approach. "Or are you thinking more appealing or more irresistible?"

I ran a hand over my face and said, "Yes to all of it." Then I added, "Just more confusing, but in a good way."

Tank had the balls to laugh out loud at my honestly. "As much as I wanted it to happen I never thought I'd see the day that you'd wake up and admit how you felt about that girl."

I understood what he was implying and quickly spoke to set him straight. "Just because I'm admitting it doesn't mean anything is going to happen."

Tank gave me a look that said he didn't believe me, so I clarified. "The change in her attitude will make it harder, but I still have to keep her at a certain distance. The reasons I've never taken her as mine are still there. If anything, this stalker just drives the point home."

This time he made a noise like a snort of disagreement and replied, "Because when you aren't around Stephanie's life is _so _much safer. I mean, since she spends all her time with outstanding citizens and stays _so_ far away from the criminal element in Trenton, I can see why you'd think that only her association with you puts her in any danger." He paused for a moment and then smiled before looking toward the door she just exited and said, "But I can agree with you on one thing; the new confident teasing attitude is definitely going to make things…harder."

He was lucky to be sitting across the table from me, so I couldn't punch him for that comment. Although he was right, my cargos held the evidence that being around Stephanie when she was in the mood to tease was going to prove to be hell on my system.

We spent the next hour going over every angle of the stalker and working our rotations of protection for when we went out in order to have a team dedicated to keeping us safe and another team for the sole purpose of trying to locate and capture the stalker before they could strike again. The pictures in the latest package had me worried. I knew the glass at the bonds office was bullet proof because I'd had it installed at my own expense, but I still didn't like the clear shot they'd gotten with a camera. It might stop a single bullet, but there were still things that would render it useless, and until we knew exactly what we were up against, I had to assume the stalker had access to just that kind of weapon which would mean the bond's office wasn't safe enough for us to linger in for too long.

At 1830 hours I went up to seven and was both relieved and disappointed that Stephanie wasn't in the shower. As much as I loved the show she'd given this morning, I didn't think I could listen to her obviously coming in my shower and screaming my name without taking matters into my own hands – literally.

I called out to her, and she said came around the corner in my bathrobe with her hair around her face in lovely more relaxed curls and her make up done in a lighter than usual way, but she'd done something to her eyes that made the blue in them seem to dance. Even in my robe, standing in front of me with bare feet, she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever met.

I couldn't resist trying to even the score from her comments in the conference room earlier, so I walked over to her and said, "I'm assuming you're done in the shower." When she nodded that she was I added, "I thought it sounded like a good idea, so I came up a little early to get some quality time in there myself before we leave." When her face turned a lovely shade of rose I knew my work here was done, and I passed by her to escape into the bathroom.

I bathed with my usual efficiency and was finished no more than six minutes after I got in. I knew I still had plenty of time before we needed to leave, so I stood there for a minute and let the warm water relax some of the tension in my shoulders. I looked around the shower and smiled at the thought of Stephanie getting off in here using my shower massager and a mental picture of me. The fact that she said my name at the end was such a turn on. We were careful to keep things between us at a certain level. There was so damn much electricity between us that I was surprised we hadn't combusted, but we didn't speak of relationships or anything else that would define us anything more than friends with a great deal of attraction.

But the fact that she said my name when she thought she was alone was telling. I had long ago figured out that her feelings ran deeper than just a physical magnetism. I guessed the fact that I'd made more than my fair share of stupid comments to her about my take on commitment had made her wary enough not to push, but there was a piece of me that wanted to hear her confess how she really felt about me; that wanted to hear that despite the smart thing being to keep our distance, that she found it a battle to stay away from me too. I was about to turn off the water but I looked down and saw the evidence of the amount of time I'd spent thinking about her looking up at me.

Standing tall and proud, my erection was practically jumping up and down, trying to get my attention for a release before I attempted to put on dress pants. Oh hell, I had a little time to spare, and the thought of jacking off to one of my favorite fantasies starring Steph only moments after she had probably done the same thing was too good to pass up. With that I took a little of the shower gel Steph seemed to love so much and slicked up my palm before putting my left hand on the wall to keep me steady, shutting my eyes and bringing up the image of Steph and I making love in her apartment after DeChooch, and then using my right hand to grab my dick. It probably said something about me that just the picture of Stephanie alone was all it took to get me in such a state that I hadn't even worked up a real lather before the warmth of my come was shooting out over my fingers and running down the drain.

I couldn't begin to estimate the hundreds or thousands of times I'd masturbated, but this was the first time I could remember it leaving me feeling like I needed to sit down. I took advantage of the seat built in the corner of the shower and got my breathing under control before getting out of the shower. If I had this kind of reaction to a mental picture, I couldn't begin to imagine how intense the real thing would be. The last time we were together was more amazing than I'd ever experienced, and we were much closer now than we were then. I had a feeling if we ever ended up in bed again it would be the beginning a relationship regardless of my constant comments about how that couldn't happen.

I looked down at the towel around my waist and realized I needed to think about something else before I had to step back into the shower. I opened the door and forced myself to think about all the possible ways tonight could go wrong which took care of most of my rising problem.

Stephanie stepped out of the closet in an ivory colored dress that literally took my breath away. The back went up and stood along the back of her neck sloping down to a point in the front that hinted at the cleavage it was barely covering. The sleeves stopped just off her shoulders and it fit her figure like a tailored glove without being too tight. It stopped only a couple of inches above her knee, which was long by the standard she sometimes dressed by, but the bottom had slits of various lengths, allowing her legs to move and giving her the ability to get lots of sway in her hips when she walked past me to pick up her shoes from the floor. I could tell she was wearing nylons of some sort and wondered if they were being held up at the top with a sexy garter. I swallowed hard at that thought.

She bent one leg to slide on a shoe that was the same color as her dress but seemed to sparkle when she moved. The heel on it must have been four inches and so thin I wondered why it didn't break when she moved. I walked over to her and took the second shoe from her hand before she tried to slip it on while standing on the single heel, attempting to balance. I silently placed her hand on my shoulder and knelt in front of her, hoping she would get the message to steady herself and allow me to slip on the other shoe. I lifted her foot with one hand and eased the heel on it, running my hand up the back of her calf to her knee, just taking in the sexiest legs I'd ever seen in front of me.

"Thank you," she said in a strangely quiet voice.

"My pleasure," I replied honestly. Then, like the coward I felt that I was in this situation, I stood up and abruptly hid in the closet under the guise of looking for something to wear.

I slipped out five minutes later in a pair of charcoal grey dress pants and a deep blue silk shirt. When I walked out to where she was standing in the kitchen she blinked several times and stared at me before saying, "It's strange to see you in something other than black."

I couldn't tell if that was a compliment or not, so I decided to have a little fun and replied, "I could always go back and change."

"No," she quickly responded. "I like it, I just have to get used to you looking so…"

I waited but her thought seemed to be stuck. "So what, Babe?" I asked, slowly moving closer to stand right in front of her. I knew when I got in her personal space she had trouble thinking clearly, so when she replied, "Hot," I pushed her and asked, "Are you too warm? Is that what you're saying?"

She shook her head no and clarified, "You're too sexy to be real."

I put my hands on the bare skin of her arms and ran them from her wrists to her sleeves and back down. "Oh, I'm real alright," I assured her, indulging myself for a moment and enjoying the way I could short circuit her brain by getting so close to her.

Before I could take advantage of the apparent truth serum my presence was to her there was a knock at the door that completely broke the mood.

I walked over and opened the door to see Hal, who told me they were all set in the garage. Tank briefed us before we left that Bobby and a date were already at the restaurant, and Lester was going to time his arrival within minutes of ours so that they would have the tables on either side of us in the corner. Rosinni's had allowed us to park at the back and enter and exit through the kitchen. I guess my reputation made certain rules bendable.

Tank and Hal would be going in a Mercedes and would sit in the main parking lot. Bones and Cal would be stationed behind the building near our car, and Zip and Hector would secure the entranceway as we walked from the building to the car both times. The plan seemed tight enough, so I escorted Steph to my Porsche and held back a smile as she eased herself into the leather seats and sighed. I loved her responses to the things she enjoyed, and my car was no different.

I pulled the passenger side of the car within four feet of the back door, driving up on the sidewalk slightly to accommodate the protection I was trying for. When Zip and Hector were in place lining the way from her door to the entrance of the restaurant, I walked around quickly and opened her door, holding out my hand to assist her in getting out gracefully. I glared at Zip when he glanced at Steph. His appreciation of her look tonight was written all over his face, and I wasn't interested in him drooling over my woman. I was paying him to keep her safe. He met my eyes and was smart enough to look down, realizing he'd been caught. I'd make sure he had extra control room detail over the next week since he obviously liked looking at things so much.

As soon as we were in the kitchen I knew Zip would park the car where Bones and Cal could keep a visual at all times. There was a security light in the back of the lot, and the car was to be parked under it. Hector guided us through the kitchen, insuring no one stopped us to ask what we were doing. He was planning on staying in the kitchen for the duration of our meal and would escort us back to the exit when we were finished.

There was a hostess at the door separating the kitchen from the dining room with two menus and a wine listing in her hands. She looked at Stephanie and took in the whole outfit from her hair to her shoes. If anything, she seemed to have a brief look of longing on her face. Then she switched to me and promptly dropped the wine list, banging her head on the swinging doors when she bent over to pick it up. Stephanie tried to muffle her laughter at the poor girl's attempt to brush off her clumsiness.

"Right this way Mr. Manoso," she said, indicating we should follow her to our table. I had to admit the way they had accommodated my odd security requests was impressive.

As we were seated I nodded at Bobby who had his back to the wall, and noticed Lester was being led to the table on the other side of ours with a blond haired beauty whose dress was in danger of ripping when she sat down. Something told me if that happened, my cousin would find a way to make light of it and still enjoy his evening.

Seeing all the details revolving around our safety had been attended to I relaxed slightly and focused my attention on Stephanie. If we were being watched I wanted to be sure we put on a good show. She was busy looking over the menu, no doubt trying to find the single item with the highest fat and calorie count. I couldn't help but notice the way we were so different – opposites in many ways. I was a health nut to her high octane eating habits, she was pale skinned to my dark, I was quiet to her more conversational style, and yet we were both loyal, fought to right wrongs despite how society thought we should allow only law enforcement to do that job, we loved a good challenge or mystery, and there was no denying that we both felt the same degree of attraction to each other. I wouldn't say the rule opposites attract applied to us, but I did feel like we were similar enough to fully understand each other, and different enough to make life interesting.

"I always order the same thing every time I'm here, yet there are so many good things on the menu," she said, pulling me from my philosophical mental ramblings.

"What looks good other than the Sausage and Noodle Alfredo?" I asked, letting her know I was well aware of her favorite.

She looked at me for a few minutes and then smiled. This was her devious face, one that I had grown to both love and fear in equal measure. "How about you order for me, and I order for you? We have to take into account the other has certain eating habits, and don't try to pick something completely outside that, but we try to expose the other to something new."

That seemed reasonable enough. "So I can't order you grilled vegetables and a seasoned chicken breast," I summed up, quoting my usual here, "But I don't have to pick the Alfredo either?"

"Right," she agreed. "And I won't get you anything swimming in a cream or cheese sauce, but you're going to end up with something besides your usual bland food."

"I'm game," I agreed before adding, "Does this extend all the way to dessert?"

She nodded before saying, "But you don't eat dessert."

"Not usually, but I might make an exception tonight since I'm probably going to be blowing my typical rules for dinner anyway." Based on the fact that she was choosing it I was guaranteed to be consuming my weekly allotment of fat and carbs, so I may as well go all the way just to see the way she reacted.

"Deal," she agreed, flipping the menu with a new found purpose.

When the server came by I ordered us a bottle of Pinot Noir, figuring it would compliment most anything we selected, and tried to come up with something a little healthier than she typically ordered without going too far that she'd complain.

When the server came back and asked for our order I noticed his eyes register his shock when Steph said, "He'll have the Chicken Pomodora over risotto with a side salad with the house garlic Italian dressing on the side."

I was impressed, and a little surprised, as that was the same entrée I had decided on for her. When the server looked at me I nodded and added, "And the lady will also have the Chicken Pomodora, but served over the house linguini with extra sauce. She'll start with a side salad with Ranch and extra croutons as well."

"You did very well," she complimented my choices on her behalf, and I assured her I felt the same way.

We talked for a while about Bobby and Lester's dates until our salads came, and we ate in silence for a few moments until I asked, "This afternoon in the conference room, you said you trusted my judgment about your safety in coming out tonight."

She nodded that she remembered, which gave me the encouragement I needed to continue. "Why? Why do you trust me?" I knew this was a little heavier than just surface conversation, but whenever I was in front of Stephanie I found my internal control that prevented me from talking tended to be low to non-existent.

She sat her fork down and thought for a minute before responding. "When I first met you in the diner, I was nervous, but I could tell that you knew exactly what you were doing. From that moment I just had a feeling in my gut that I could trust you. Then every disaster, stalker, embarrassing moment, and exploding car since then has only given me more evidence that I was right and proven that you are the only person that has my true welfare in mind, so I trust your opinion above anyone else's."

I sat back hard in my chair and used the napkin in my lap to wipe at the corners of my mouth. She meant every word. Steph was incapable of lying with much conviction if you knew how to read her face, and I was stunned at how easily she admitted that. I didn't have a lot of experience with true love, but I understood what it meant to trust, and the level of ease she had in placing her life in my hands was enough to bowl me over.

"Can I ask you something now?" She asked while I was trying to swallow the heat my chest felt at her declaration of trusting me. "Why have you gone out of your way to take care of me? I mean, it certainly would have been easier to help me find a class somewhere to learn more about bounty hunting, and the number of times you have personally come to my rescue instead of just sending one of your men is more than I can count. Why haven't you gotten tired of the drain I must be to your free time?"

I nearly chuckled at how she saw herself. "Babe, there are only a handful of people I trust enough to let them know about my real life. It didn't take me long after meeting you to realize you were one of those people. Every time I've needed your help you have dropped what you were doing to help me. You've never asked for money or tried to use me for your own gain. I'd do the same things for Tank, Lester, or Bobby that I've done for you, but for them I'd do it because of a shared history, and for you I do it because I want to."

Her cheeks blazed with a hint of pink, and I resisted the urge to reach across the table and touch them to recognize how lovely I thought it was when she did that. "Why don't you do relationships?"

I didn't see that one coming. "I guess a more honest statement to you would have been that I don't do traditional relationships. I think it would be too risky for me to marry someone, give them my name, and have children who would in essence be born with a bulls-eye on them because of the number of people that would want to do them harm. I don't regret the things I've done for my country or my company, but I can't ignore the fact that it's made some very powerful enemies either. My enemies would love nothing more than to teach me a lesson by hurting something important to me."

"Then why don't you have a non-traditional relationship?" She pushed, a little more forward than she usually was when we were having a serious conversation.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked, hoping if I teased her a little she would get flustered and drop this whole topic of conversation before I said something I couldn't take back when I had my head back on straight. Honestly, how could I say no to the blue eyes sitting across from me.

The waiter delivered our entrees, and I had to admit it did look good. Steph cut a small bite of her chicken and drug it through the sauce her plate was swimming in before putting it in her mouth and shutting her eyes as she tasted the lemon cream sauce. I figured the food had put an end to our conversation, for which I was grateful, but then she sat back and started talking.

"Not every woman out there is after a husband, a picket fence, and a couple of children. Some of us only want to know there is a man who is committed enough to us that they aren't out there screwing other women, and that from time to time we are being thought of warmly by the man we love." Damn, when she put it like that, I could easily commit to her. Hell, I already had. Since we'd settled the DeChooch deal, I hadn't slept with anyone else because other women no longer held the appeal they once did. And to say that I thought of her from time to time was a gross understatement. She was the single most important person in my life, and the amount of time I spent thinking of her was not quantifiable.

I forced myself to take a bite before replying to her comment. "When you put it like that, I'd say we already have a relationship," I blurted out and then mentally kicked my ass for saying it. I shouldn't be telling her how much influence she had over me, and comments like that showed her the amount of power she held.

She glanced up from her linguini quickly, and her eyes narrowed as though she was trying to figure out if I was making a joke at her expense. Her expression softened slightly, and she looked back down, watching the noodles twist around her fork and said, "And yet, I still feel like you are trying to keep me from getting too close."

I assumed she meant for me to hear her so I responded, "It's not that I want to keep the distance, it's that I'm afraid if you get any closer I won't know what to do if something happens to you because of me."

Her head snapped up as though my response to her comment was completely unexpected. I had no way of knowing if that was because I was truly answering her or because she hadn't intended to make her comment aloud.

Her head tilted to the side and she said, "I didn't take you as being so egotistical."

Slightly hurt at her comment I couldn't help but ask, "I'm being honest, why would you insult me because of it?"

She put her hand up as though she hadn't intended what she said to be an insult. "I just mean that you seem to think the only reason I would get hurt was because of one of _your_ enemies. It seems in the years we've known each other, I've only been truly threatened once, maybe twice because of your past, but I've had well over a dozen serious threats of my own, not to mention the day to day crazies and idiots I've picked up because of my work with Vinnie and my big mouth. If anything, my past seems to cause _you_ more pain and suffering than _yours_ has to me."

I couldn't help but smile at how she'd been keeping a mental score card of our damage. The truth was that at least two more threats had been made against her because of me, but we'd caught wind of them before they were acted on and neutralized them quickly so that she never even knew the danger she was in. Still, her point was well made.

She was obviously taking a risk in being so open with me. It was contrary to her normal mode of handling things so I asked, "Are you trying to tell me that you'd want a non-traditional relationship?" I found that I couldn't add the words 'with me' to the end of that question, but hoped she understood they were implied.

I figured she'd look away to answer, but her eyes were locked solidly on mine as she said, "I have no interest in marrying again, kids scare the crap out of me, and it isn't fair to bring somebody into the craziness of my life that can't handle the level of stress that comes with me. I don't think I'm capable of having anything other than a non-traditional relationship."

That was so close to what I wanted to hear, and yet, she didn't actually commit to the idea that she pictured herself with me. I looked down to cut another piece of chicken and realized I had already finished my dinner. Steph was blotting the napkin against her lips, and her plate was completely empty. The waiter must have noticed as well as he came over and cleared the dishes from us and left us with a dessert menu for our consideration.

She smiled at me and asked, "Are you still willing to let me be in charge of your dessert?"

Ah shit, that was a loaded question. I didn't have the guts to admit that the answer was yes, and I hoped the dessert she had in mind included me getting to sample what the tip of her dress' neckline was pointing to. Instead I just said, "Whatever you want to give me, I'll gladly put in my mouth."

I guess my response was close enough to the truth, as she reached for her water glass and began taking long draws, as though she were overheated and wished the ice in her beverage could do something to contain her sudden heat. I wasn't sure what the fates would allow, as my current wish was for the exactly opposite.


	6. Learning to Talk

_JE gets all the credit for the characters below. _

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you so much for filling in as the beta on this chapter. I can't thank you enough for letting me draft you into service._

**Chapter 6 – Learning to Talk**

_Stephanie's POV_

"Whatever you want to give me, I'll gladly put in my mouth," Ranger said when I asked if he'd eat anything I ordered him for dessert.

What did I say to that? My first thought was "Check, please." If he wanted something in his mouth, my miracle bra had just the thing, but then my more rational side came into play. We'd talked about being in a relationship that wasn't traditional, and in many ways, it was as if he'd agreed with me, but he'd never actually said it in so many words.

When the waiter returned, I glanced down and ordered Ranger a scoop of lemon gelato. I knew it didn't have as much fat as regular ice cream, and since it was fruity, I hoped he'd like it. After telling the waiter I'd have tiramisu, he smiled at me and complimented my choice.

An awkward silence fell between us then, and I struggled with whether or not I should break it to get us back to the subject we had been discussing before dessert was ordered. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, so I blurted out, "You pushed for what I wanted, so are _you_ interested in a non-traditional relationship?"

He blinked like my question had blindsided him. No matter what he said, at least I had the bragging rites of confusing the mighty Ranger. He picked up his water glass, and just as it blocked my view of his lips, he said, "Only with the right woman."

I tried and failed to keep my face from showing my disappointment. He had said the right woman, which proved that it wasn't me. I could understand it, in theory, but being rejected so blatantly still hurt more than I'd thought it would. This was really just a confirmation of what he'd been telling me for the past three years, but hearing it so plainly was nearly more than I could handle. Fortunately, I was saved from further embarrassment by the arrival of dessert, and I was thrilled to have the distraction of something sweet.

We finished our desserts in silence, and I looked around, hoping for some sort of conversation starter to fix the distance that seemed to have developed between us. I noticed Les and Bobby both staring at us and their watches. Evidently, we'd been here much longer than they'd anticipated having to entertain their dates.

"I think we need to leave soon. Bobby and Lester look like they've had enough of their dates for the night," I commented, trying not to laugh at our friends.

Ranger agreed and replied, "I don't think Lester usually spends so much time talking with his dates before moving onto other things. I'll bet after realizing how empty her head is, he's no longer interested in moving to the physical part of the evening."

We stood and moved to the kitchen door, which swung open by way of a smiling Hector. He was so handsome when he smiled that I touched his cheek as we passed by. Ranger took a deep breath, as though he thought Hector was going to snap at me for touching him, but I knew better. I might not always understand what Hector is saying, but we still understand each other.

He led us through the kitchen, where the staff took very little notice of us, and to the back door, where he stopped. With his cell phone to his ear, he had a clipped conversation, and then hung up and put his hand on the door and waited. It only took about five minutes for a coded knock to sound at the door. Ranger put himself in front of me when Hector opened the door marginally to verify they were ready for us.

With a nod to Ranger, he flung the door open, and Ranger took my hand in his, shielding me with his body once more to move us the five feet from the exit to the Porsche. He shut the door and jogged around to his side to join me for a quiet ride back to Haywood.

We were about to turn into the parking garage, when Ranger spoke up. "Are you okay? You've been quiet since dessert."

I tried to put on my happy face, plastering a smile on my lips that I hoped looked believable – at least within the cover of darkness. "Absolutely; dinner was wonderful, thank you."

He turned off the car and angled in his seat a little to better see me. "Babe, why are you lying to me? What did I do wrong?"

This was interesting. I couldn't imagine why Ranger would automatically assume he was in the wrong if I were upset. I could tell he was completely focused on me, so trying to shrug this off or keep lying about it wouldn't work. I had no option other than going with the truth – or at least part of it – and hope he'd let it go.

"Our conversation tonight just got me thinking," I began.

"Thinking is fine, but you don't seem lost in thought. You seem hurt," he stated as a fact, proving how difficult it was to manipulate a man who knew me so well.

I took a deep breath and decided if he was going to be so pushy, then I would give him something to think about, too. "I thought our conversation was heading in one direction, but then your last comment about it told me that I was completely wrong."

"What direction did you think it was heading?" he pushed.

It's not that I didn't want to answer him, but talking about my feelings had never been one of my strong suits. That, on top of the fact that we were going to be around each other a lot more in the next few days because of this stalker, meant if I leveled with him completely, there might be a long period of awkwardness to endure. I couldn't come to a decision and had to look away into the darkness of the parking garage to hide the emotions that were most likely evident on my face.

Without another word, Ranger got out and came to my side of the car, holding his hand out for mine. Once I stood, I expected him to release my hand, but he tightened his hold on me as we made our way to the elevator, which was standing open waiting on us. I guess part of our security was the ability to get out of the public eye as quickly as possible.

We stepped out on seven, but instead of walking straight to his apartment, he turned to the left. I knew the door led to a flight of steps that would take us to the roof. I didn't question what was going on, but my curiosity was getting the better of me. We walked over to the corner of the building, and he dropped my hand only long enough to sit down in the juncture of the walls. Then he held his hands out to me, indicating that I should sit between his legs and lean against him.

At least in this position, I wouldn't have to face him, so if he was insistent on us talking, I could blush and not worry about him picking on me for being embarrassed. Once we'd settled down, I was amazed at how comfortable it was. We were both a little overdressed, but in the evening darkness, it didn't seem to matter.

He let us get at ease in the silence for a while, as I looked up to see a few stars trying to peek through the clouds and smog. "Talk to me, Babe. We were talking about non-traditional relationships. I said I would be open to one, and then you shut down. I thought the quiet, blank response was my typical MO, not yours."

I smiled at his attempt at humor and figured if he was being this open, I could match it. "No, you said you would be open to one with the right woman."

There was a pregnant pause that wasn't helping my fragile nerves. Taking the rejection in the restaurant had been hard enough. Being dragged up to the roof to relive it once more was nearly more than I could handle.

Finally, he said, "You realize the only woman I could make something like that work with would be you, right?"

My heart started pounding like I'd just run a mile. No, scratch that; my heart would be pounding if I ran fifty yards. Was it possible to have a heart attack from the shock of a single question?

I must have been quiet for too long, because Ranger spoke once more. "Your silence is making me nervous here."

I smiled at that. Ranger didn't do nervous; he did confident and self assured. "I thought when you said you would consider a relationship with the right woman, you meant that I was not that woman. I assumed it was your way of shutting down the conversation."

I could feel his chest moving behind me, making me think he was chuckling. "Have you ever wondered how we managed to have a friendship at all, since neither of us seems to want to talk about what is between us?"

"I tried not to think about it so that I didn't have to worry about accidently speaking out loud and spilling something I didn't want you to hear," I told him honestly, as the stress I'd been carrying in my shoulders began to melt away.

He chuckled again and replied, "I love it when you let a thought slip out. Sometimes, I think it's the only way to really know what you're thinking." Ranger moved his hand to pick up mine, and then laced our fingers together. "So how would this work?" he asked, as though I had all the relationship answers in the world.

"I was hoping you'd tell me," I sheepishly responded.

"I think it's safe to say neither of us are real relationship experts," he began. "You know there are plenty of things in my past that I can't talk about, right?"

"Sure, and you know there are plenty of things in my past that I don't _want_ to talk about," I countered, trying to make the point that it wasn't knowing every detail of his past that made me want him; it was who he was that drew me in.

The silence descended once more, but this time, it was more comfortable than intimidating.

"Since we'd already agreed to pose as a couple, how about we actually try it on for size for real? We'll be going out on dates and spending time together, and once we figure out who my stalker is and put this behind us, the two of us will come back up here and sit down just like this and talk about how it's working and decide if we want to continue, or if we were better off as friends."

Wow, that sounded so mature. Was I capable of being that much of an adult? I tried to think it through quickly, and then for some stupid reason, my mouth opened, and I said, "I think since we're just trying it on for size that we should keep sex out of the equation. It will just complicate things, and we already know what that's like, so there's no reason to factor that in on top of the emotional stuff, too."

Ranger made a sound that didn't seem like agreement, but he said, "You're probably right. Besides, it will give me just enough motivation to be sure we catch this bastard quickly so that we can revisit this discussion and see about removing your no-sex rule."

I liked the way he'd worded that. It was as if he was assuming we were going to work. I wasn't exactly an optimist; real life had taken the ability of seeing the possibilities of life away from me. But I refused to be a pessimist, either, especially when I was so close to getting exactly what I most wanted.

"Deal," I agreed, wondering if I should be rooting for a quick resolution, or praying that the chase would drag on and on so that I could have more time with Ranger.

We stayed on the roof for another hour, talking about nothing and everything. It was like nothing I'd ever experienced with a man. It was…well, perfect. That is, until the door banged opened and an out of breath Vince barged out.

Without focusing on who he was addressing, the moment his boots hit the roof, he called out, "Bomber, you've got to get off the roof. It's not secure."

I was stunned. First, because I hadn't expected anyone to interrupt us, since we'd already been here for an hour; and second, because I was with Ranger. How much safer could I be?

"I think I'm okay," I called back to him, wondering what had him so on edge.

"Please, Steph," he tried again, using that word the guys tended to abuse since they'd learned how hard it was for me to resist. He was doubled over at the waist, as though running from the control room and up the stairs had him out of breath. "The boss will kill me if he knew I let you sit up here unguarded."

Ranger couldn't take it anymore and spoke up, "And what makes you think she's been unguarded for the last seventy-five minutes?"

Vince stood up so quickly, I was waiting to hear the echo of a drill sergeant calling out, "Attention!"

"Sir, I'm sorry, but the angle of the camera up here only gets part of the corner, so I was only seeing her shoes and feet. I didn't realize you were here, too. I'm sorry to interrupt," Vince said, taking small steps backward to get off the roof as quickly as possible.

"Tomorrow at 0500, you will report to the gym for conditioning with Brown, and at 0700, you will report to the monitors, where Hector will explain to you how to use the camera positioning system to move the view, in order to search an area before jumping to a conclusion," Ranger instructed. He was serious, but there was just enough of an edge to his voice that I could tell he found this humorous.

"Sir, yes sir," Vince responded, before pulling the door closed and leaving us alone once more.

Just as I'd suspected, once Vince was gone, Ranger started to laugh. When I asked what was so funny, he explained, "For a brief second, I felt like I'd been caught doing something wrong, and I had this reflex to hide so that I wasn't discovered. Then I remembered that we decided to try out a relationship for real, so I figured it didn't matter who knew we were up here and I made my presence known."

"Our non-traditional relationship," I corrected him.

"Right," Ranger quickly agreed. "But for simplicity sake, it's a relationship; it's just that we're making up our own rules about what we want from it." It seemed strange to hear Ranger asserting that we were in a relationship after years of hearing him say it wasn't possible.

"Right," I echoed his agreement. "But it's just us – no one else, no cheating, no flirting, nobody else." As I said it, I hated how clingy it made me sound.

"Babe..." he whispered, in a voice so sexy, I could feel my toes curling in my shoes. "There hasn't been anyone else in two years. There's no way I'd do something so stupid to ruin this chance, now that I have you."

It almost sounded like he wanted this to work. Whatever we had agreed to, it seemed to make him happy, and as hard it was to believe, that would mean that he wanted me – wanted us.

"I feel the same way," I promised, wanting to be sure he understood that this was just us. I had no interest in any other guys.

"Let's go to seven and relax somewhere a little more comfortable," he suggested.

I stood, trying to be as ladylike as possible, but getting to a standing position in heels and a short dress without flashing the world in front of you is next to impossible. I tried to keep myself covered as much as possible and stood up quickly, before stepping back to offer Ranger a little more room to maneuver.

He put his arm around my shoulders, and we walked over to the door, side by side. As Ranger opened the door, I glanced behind us into the nightline visible from the RangeMan roof.

"What is it?" Ranger asked, his hand going to his waist in a motion that I knew meant he was putting his hand on his closest gun.

I shook my head, not able to see anything. "Nothing, I guess," I stated without much conviction.

I had that strange feeling that we were being watched, but since there was obviously no one levitating in the air on the side of the building, that was ridiculous. Still, I quickly stepped into the stairway, glad to be back in the safety of the building, behind the bulletproof materials of the windows and walls here.

I let out a slow breath when I heard his keys hit the dish by the door and relaxed, knowing we were truly in an impenetrable fortress here. Nothing was going to get to us, so whatever bad vibes I was getting on the roof no longer mattered.

I jumped when Ranger's hands landed gently on my shoulders.

"What's wrong, Babe?" He pushed his question again from the roof top.

I tried to shake it off, and then realized if we wanted to really give this testing period a fair shake, we needed to be honest with each other, so I leveled with him. "When we were leaving, I had a strange feeling that we were being watched. It was creepy, even though I knew it wasn't possible."

Ranger ran his hands down my arms and back up to my shoulders before speaking. "It wouldn't be easy, but it's possible. We're completely safe here, but in the morning, I'll have Les and Tank head up to the roof and look around to see if there are any angles of the roof that we need to tighten security on. I'm sure if you felt something, there was a reason for it. Never worry about telling me when you have a feeling something is wrong. There are many times on missions that my instincts saved my life, so you can't discount that nagging voice that says something is off."

I turned slightly to see him. "I didn't think you could tell me about your missions."

He gave me a half smile, and I was momentarily distracted by how handsome his face was when it was this relaxed and seemingly happy. I mean, there was no denying he was sexy man all the time, but when he was like this, with his guard was down, it was like he was sharing a side of himself that no one else was privy to, and that thought made me feel warm inside. This was _my _Ranger – the one no one else got to see.

"I can't give you details, but that wasn't a location or a target; it was just a fact. Sometimes, our instincts are all we've got to save us, and when they send a message, we need to listen," he explained.

I loved the fact that he'd taken me seriously, even though I had no evidence for why I had been creeped out on the roof.

It was still early enough that neither of us was ready for bed, so we changed into lounging clothes and settled down in front of the television. I leaned against his side and zoned out, while he watched some kind of documentary on PBS about the rain forest in Brazil. It struck me that while we had talked about more in that hour than we ever had before, there were still quite a few things left up in the air. At the same time, I didn't really feel the need to push the issue and talk about it even more. If actions spoke louder than words, and I already knew Ranger to be an action kind of guy, then the next few days would probably tell me all I needed to know.


	7. Mental Musings and Bets

_The characters and universe below are all courtesy of JE, not me._

_Jenny (JenRar) you have been so wonderful to step up and beta for me. I don't have the words to thank you for your fast work and suggestions._

**Chapter 7 – Mental Musings and Bets **

_Ranger's POV_

_I wonder what Steph is doing right now? _It was hard as hell to get out of bed this morning, but I refused to change my workout schedule just because my body wanted to stay next to hers in the comfort of the bed.

_Is she dressed yet? Oh, maybe she's in the shower, using my shower massaging head to get off. _Damn, the sound of that yesterday had been enough to make me feel like I was in junior high, fighting the pull to come in my pants.

"What did you say, Boss?" Tank asked, looking at me as though I'd interrupted his presentation on what we had so far on the stalker as the main topic of discussion at the "all staff" meeting. Thinking about Stephanie must have caused me to make a sound of some sort.

"Nothing," I lied. "Carry on."

I could tell Tank wasn't buying it, but he was smart enough to let it go and continue droning on to the men. We didn't have jack shit on who this creep was. How could it take so long and so many PowerPoint slides to say, "We have threats, but no evidence; now go find the son of a bitch?"

I needed to get a handle on this distraction. We'd talked last night on the roof, and we're trying a relationship. Me, the tough guy, had agreed to try a relationship, despite my life long pledge that it wasn't possible. I guess Stephanie was beginning to rub off on me. I rolled my eyes at that thought, and then used my thumb and forefinger to press against them to cover what I'd just done involuntarily.

I felt an elbow hit mine and looked over to see Lester trying his damndest to cover up a smile, sliding a note between us. Despite feeling like I was suddenly back in the sixth grade, I looked down and read: _Did you just roll your eyes? What is she doing to you? _

That's it. I had to find a way to put a little distance between us. It had barely been twelve hours since I'd seen her, and I was obsessed, thinking about her. I'd loved talking on the roof. She'd let her guard down, and it had been so comfortable and natural. I figured if the time ever came for me to have a real relationship that I'd have to work for it to feel right, but that wasn't the case. I should have known better.

Of course, I'd been so relieved to hear that she wanted to be with me despite the restrictions of what I could talk to her about that I'd just agreed to everything she'd said. What in the hell had I been thinking when I'd said that no sex was all right until the stalker situation was resolved? Resisting her is hard enough when I have her pressed against the alley in the broad daylight. But when she is asleep in my bed with her tight little ass wiggling against my crotch, it's damned near impossible. Oh man, a guy could lose himself thinking about that ass.

"Boss!" Tank's irritated voice cut through my fog. When I glared at him for interrupting the pleasant fantasy I'd been about to jump into, Tank continued, "Now that the guys have the scoop, is there anything you want to add? Any additional instructions?"

I needed to say something so I didn't look like a complete idiot here. But there wasn't much you could add to nothing. Then I remembered last night and said, "I need someone to check out the roof. Be sure we have the proper angles on the cameras set to maximize the coverage, and then do a scouting report of what buildings might have a vantage point to see us walking through the door to enter or exit. We'll need to do a check into anyone with the possibility of visual access."

Tank seemed surprised that I had such a suggestion, and I knew I'd covered my daydreaming well, as I now had a story to hide behind. "Lester and I will go up after the meeting and have a look around," he said. "We'll come up with a list of people with the possibility of visual access, and you can let us know which ones you'd like us to pursue with a background check."

I nodded, knowing the wisest course of action was silence at this point. The meeting adjourned, and most of the guys filed out, leaving the core team and the men from Boston and Miami that we'd tapped to help fill out security until the stalker was captured. Tank went over the detail assignments we'd come up with yesterday, and I was confident the plan would work.

"So when do we get to meet the famous Bombshell Bounty Hunter?" Scar asked.

Usually known for his silence, I was a bit shocked to hear him speak so casually about Stephanie. I used all the control I had to clinch my fist in my lap, instead of growling and telling him to watch his tone regarding my woman.

Bobby laughed and answered instead. "Man, you've got a while to wait. It's not even 0700. Bomber ain't a morning person, so if you see her now, you'd better stay out of her way."

Tank and Lester eagerly agreed, and as much as I hated to admit, he was right. If Steph had her way, no day would begin before 1000 hours, and even then, it would begin with breakfast in bed, not a day of office work.

"When do we head out?" Michael asked, clarifying the morning trip to the bonds office.

Unfortunately, I had no idea if Steph was even awake yet, so answering that question with certainty wasn't as easy as it seemed. "The bonds office doesn't open until 0900, and we need to give Connie a chance to pull together any files for RangeMan, so I don't see much point in going before 1100, but I'll let you know if that changes."

I stood up to leave, not seeing a reason to sit around anymore. "Let me see the list from your roof investigation," I instructed Tank, before walking out. Hopefully, that was short and gruff enough to pass for having my head completely in the game.

I shut myself in my office and tried to bury myself in reports to focus on something other than Stephanie. If I couldn't keep my head on straight any better than this, then the only thing this relationship experiment would prove is that I'm not capable of having a relationship of any sort – traditional or not. Maybe it was the lack of sex. If I could exhaust that part of my brain that seemed to be so intent on thinking about her body, then I could probably focus a little better. I'd give it today, and if I wasn't able to get a handle on this any better, then I was going to try for a little renegotiation tonight. Satisfied that I had a plan, I was finally able to read through yesterday's field reports without my mind wandering.

I signed off on the last filing, just as there was a soft knock on my door. "Babe," I called from my desk, hoping she knew to come on in.

She was wearing her RangeMan uniform. Ella had been extra careful in selecting a perfectly fitted polo for Steph's shirt, and the RangeMan emblem was just above her left breast, forcing my eyes to land there first. The fact that they stayed there was beside the point. We were definitely going to have to renegotiate the no sex rule tonight.

"I was curious when we were going to head over to the bonds office?" she asked, standing in the doorway with her crazy curls framing her face.

I glanced at the clock, saw it was 1030 hours, and said, "Thirty minutes?"

She nodded and turned to leave. It was as much a surprise to me as it was to her when my voice called out, "Wait!" with such a sense of urgency.

She spun around and looked at me like I was crazy. I looked at my desk, wishing there was some task I could ask her to do to make it seem like there was a reason for me calling her back. Coming up blank, I decided this was foolish. I was a grown man, and this was my woman. We were both adults with nothing to hide. With that thought, I stood up and walked to her, not stopping until I had backed her into the wall beside the door. I dropped my head down slightly to kiss her good morning. I forced myself to keep it light, not trusting myself to be able to refrain from slamming the door shut and pushing her onto the couch beside us if things heated up too much.

Her lips were sweet and smelled like syrup, telling me Ella had been spoiling her upstairs. But when she opened her mouth and my tongue slipped in, I no longer picked up on food, just tasting the sweetness that I identified as being purely Stephanie. It was an addictive taste, like a natural nectar that was uniquely designed to suit my preferences.

A throat clearing behind us was the only reason I was able to pull back. Refusing to act like a spooked kid getting caught in the act of making out, I took my time pulling back and placed a final kiss on her forehead, before saying, "Good morning, Babe."

She blinked, as though dazed, and I couldn't stop the manly pride from building up at the effect I had on her. It was only fair, after I'd spent all morning trying to cover up the effect she had on me.

Sensing whoever had interrupted us was still standing behind me, I kept my body in front of Steph's and just turned my head to ask, "What?"

Lester had a knowing smirk on his face as he held out a piece of paper. "Here's that list of possible individuals and companies that could have visual access to the roof. Let me know which ones you want background checks on, and I'll have them run."

Stephanie spoke up and said, "If you need checks done, I can run them. We've got a little time before we leave, so I can start them now and let them go while we're out."

I handed the list to her, knowing she would do the most thorough job anyway, and it would allow her to contribute and to know I'd taken her feeling last night seriously. She stepped around me, and then stopped. I looked around and saw Scar standing there, back to his usual silent personality. He was looking her over, and I figured I should let Stephanie know who it was, so she wasn't put off by the red angry looking gash that ran diagonally from the top right temple over his nose to the left side of his chin. His nickname was as obvious as Tank's.

Before I could say anything, Stephanie stuck out her hand and said, "Hi, I'm Stephanie. I'm guessing you're one of the guys from another office."

Scar was still speechless, but he stuck out his hand and shook hers.

"I really appreciate you coming up here, or was it down here?" She got sidetracked for a second, not knowing if he was from Boston or Miami. "Anyway, thanks for agreeing to watch out for us."

Scar continued to hold her hand, even after she'd stopped speaking, clearly having never met a woman that was as much of a force of nature as this one.

I couldn't take it anymore and had to speak up, "Scar, let go of her hand, unless you want to meet me on the mats in the morning."

He shook his head no and looked down to see their hands were in fact still joined. He let go quickly and wiped his hand, as though something were on it that was burning him.

I looked at Steph, but she didn't seem to be the least bit unnerved by his reaction. In fact, she shocked us all by saying, "I was just about start running some searches. If you aren't busy, you can keep me company until we have to leave for the bonds office."

He didn't say a word, but stepped back and used the hand he'd just wiped off to indicate she should lead the way. As they walked away, Steph started talking in her endearing rambling way.

Lester said, "Damn, that is one fine woman."

Although his comment could have been referring to her looks – and it would have been true – I knew that wasn't what he meant. Few people could look Scar in the face without it seeming like they were gawking, and I don't ever remember someone just sticking their hand out and introducing themselves, as though the glaring mark didn't exist.

Tank came over and nodded toward my office, so I stepped back inside and hid my surprise when he shut the door, before sitting down in the guest chair across from my desk. I waited, forcing him to state why he was here.

He caved first and ran his hand over the back of his neck. The man could never play poker, because that was his tell of when he was nervous or thinking. "About Stephanie," he started, and then paused again. "I can't help but notice that even in the building, you guys are maintaining your cover."

"No cover," I blurted out, watching as his eyes doubled in size from the shock of my statement. I figured I'd better explain, "We talked about it last night, and we are trying out the idea of having a real relationship."

"Trying out the idea?" he pushed, confused. "Man, this is Stephanie. Half the guys out there are in love with her, and the other half wish there was a bullet they could jump in front of on her behalf, just to show how committed they are to her. You can't try her on like she's a damn pair of shoes."

"Fuck you," I eloquently replied. Then I did my own version of a tell, taking a deep breath. "We have a history, and this is our way of moving past the circle we've walked around each other for last couple of years."

"I'm all for that, but what exactly are your intentions with her now?" he challenged.

I didn't want to have this conversation, but Tank was used to having my back, and I had a feeling if there was any trouble from the men, then he needed to know to keep the peace behind me. "I care about her more than anyone."

When I paused, he jumped in and said, "I'm hurt, man. I thought what we had was special."

I couldn't help but smile when I realized he was sitting in front of me now as my friend, not as my employee. That helped me to relax enough to talk. "She's my woman. She has been for years, and everyone has acknowledged it except the two of us. She knows I can't give her details about the work I've done in the past, or any future missions, and I can't make a picket fence and kids fit into my life, but she seems to think it doesn't matter.

"So while we're being intentional about being seen in public, we are going to take advantage of it and let it be real, instead of staged performances to get attention. When this whole stalker mess is cleaned up, we'll talk about it and see how we want to handle our future. It's possible that we'd be better off as friends; this is our way of seeing if that's true."

"Do _you _think you'd be better of as friends?" Tank asked, sounding doubtful.

"I think if we really give into this, it will rock us both so that the idea of being apart won't be conceivable. But I won't push her into something she's not comfortable with; she'll have to accept that what I'm giving her now is all I can give," I clarified.

"What are you giving her now?" he wondered.

"We're talking; we're just being together. It's…nice," I said, cringing at the adjective, knowing that wasn't even close to what last night was.

"I'm going to stop you before your vocabulary gets above my understanding," he said, mocking my word choice. "Besides, I don't want you to get on a roll and start talking about the two of you in bed."

My hand rubbed my eyes again, and I mumbled, "I wish."

"What!" Tank practically yelled. I'd forgotten how good his hearing was.

Damn. In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess. "Steph wants to keep sex off the table while we're starting up. So until the stalker is caught, we're dating, we're talking, we're sleeping, but we aren't…" I couldn't make myself say it.

Tank had no trouble finishing the sentence. "Screwing. Man, no wonder you were so pissed at the meeting this morning. We don't have the first lead, so you are about to enter one hell of a tormented dry spell."

"I've been in a dry spell, but having her in my bed – and in my arms – and not acting on it is going to make me crazy," I admitted, glad to get it off my chest.

"All right, man. We're doing everything we can. We'll get this creep, and then you and Steph can go somewhere and celebrate the stalker being gone in whatever way you want to." He smirked when he said that, as though he knew exactly how we'd celebrate.

I couldn't help but smile at the idea.

Tank stood up to leave, and then turned back before opening the door. "I'm happy for you, man. I know how long you've wanted her, and I don't care what happened to make you finally take your head out of your ass. I'm just glad you're finally giving in. But I have to say one thing. She isn't just anybody. She is one in a million, and if you screw this up and hurt her, when it could have been avoided, I'll bring down a whipping on your ass like you've never seen. It would piss me off to know that you'd hurt her."

He didn't wait for a response; he didn't need to. We both knew that Tank rarely ever lost his temper, but the few times he had, he was fully capable of bringing me down. If I hurt Stephanie, he was basically saying he would hand me my ass on the mats for all of RangeMan to see. Quite honestly, I'd hold him to it. If I hurt her, I'd deserve whatever he could bring and more.

Michael knocked on my door at 1100 and asked if we were ready to roll. He and Scar were going to go ahead of us and get into position across the street, in order to keep an eye out for any movement and to watch our backs, while Bobby, Lester, Hector, and Cal would have a perimeter farther out, to secure the area and look for any signs of a stalker. Stephanie and I just needed to get in and out of the bonds office and make it look like I alone was keeping her safe.

We waited until I'd received a text that everyone was in position, and then we got into the Turbo to ride over. About a block into the drive, I felt the urge to talk. Realizing that was strange enough, but then I acted on it, too, which made Stephanie's head snap around, as though the sound of my voice in the car was startling.

"You were great with Scar this morning."

She smiled when I mentioned him and replied, "He's quite funny and has never had a Boston Cream doughnut. Oh, that reminds me. After the bonds office, we have to swing by the Tasty Pastry so I can pick some up for him to try."

I looked at the road, hoping she couldn't see the internal debate warring in my head. There was a large piece of me that wanted to stop by for the pastries because it was something she wanted and I wanted to fulfill her every wish, but there was a more practical voice that screamed, "No way in hell." We couldn't secure the bakery with the solid sheet of windows in the front that were not reinforced glass, nor could I get enough guys there in time to maintain a perimeter.

I finally decided on a compromise. "How about when we're done, we have Cal stop by and pick some up to bring back?" Cal had a thing for doughnuts that he thought he'd hidden from me. Honestly, you'd think the guys would know better than to confide in the woman I kept closer tabs on than anyone else.

She seemed slightly confused by the diversion, but shrugged, as though she wasn't going to press it now. Then she smiled and said, "How many will you let him get?"

"How many do you need?" I asked, wondering if she was trying to tell me her hormones were beginning to run rampant. If she needed a release, there was no way I was going to let her have it via doughnuts. It would help my renegotiation tonight if she was as on edge as I was.

"Well, if we're getting one for Scar to try, then we should probably let the other guys have them, too," she mused, almost thinking aloud. "Maybe five dozen would do it."

"Five dozen!" I exclaimed, not bothering to hide my surprise at the huge number. "Babe, most of the guys don't eat that kind of food. They would go to waste."

She giggled before replying, "I'll bet you ten dollars that if I walk in with sixty doughnuts and you give them permission to eat them without some sort of punishment for tainting their temples with empty carbs, they'll all be gone in fifteen minutes or less."

I glanced over quickly, before thinking it through. "Ten minutes," I countered, before smiling and tacking on, "And I don't want to bet money."

"What do you want to bet?" she asked, shifting in her seat to see me better.

"How about a massage?" I asked, trying to come up with something that I would enjoy. I could easily picture her straddling my waist and rubbing oil onto my back, before kneading away the tension in my muscles. And if I made a few sounds of appreciation for her work, then maybe I could get her to do more than rub my back.

"I'd love to have your magic fingers rubbing my shoulders," she countered, as though she knew my men better than I did.

I shut off the car and raised an eyebrow at her, replying only, "Babe."

She laughed again and asked, "What?" feigning innocence. "You may not realize it, but your guys love doughnuts, and if I walk in with free ones and announce they can have them courtesy of you, I'll get mobbed, and they'll all be gone."

"Then I think we have a bet," I surmised, knowing how hard the guys worked in the gym to burn off the occasional beer they'd consume as a treat. There was no way sixty of my men were going to eat sweets in the middle of the day for no reason. Hell, there weren't sixty guys at the Trenton office of RangeMan right now, even if everyone was there on one shift. I could almost feel her hands on me, knowing she was going to lose this wager.

She stuck out her hand, and I shook on it, turning her hand over to bring her knuckles up to my lips before letting go. "Wait for me to open the door before getting out," I reminded her.

She rolled her eyes, but stayed in her seat until I opened the door and reached in for her.

Once we were inside, I relaxed slightly, but I pushed her to sit on the couch on the far side away from the window. "Ladies," I said as a greeting to Lula and Connie, who were staring at us like we'd walked in without clothes on. I realized they were both focused on our hands, which were still holding tightly to each other.

I slung my arm over Stephanie's shoulder and pulled her closer to my side, before deciding to have a little fun. "Go ahead and ask. I know you're dying to."

Lula looked a little miffed that I was assuming to know how her mind worked and asked, "You bring anything to eat?"

That wasn't the question I was expecting, so I smiled at her and shook my head. It was a wonder Steph could wear the snug fitting jeans that she did, since it seemed anytime the two of them were together, food was always involved.

I told her that we came empty handed, and Lula made a 'tsk' sound before saying, "Next time, bring us something, cause a conversation like this needs food to go along with it."

"What kind of conversation?" Stephanie asked, giving Lula permission to unload.

"One where somebody tells us what the hell is going on between you two." She looked at us both before continuing. "And don't try to shovel no, 'we're just friends' line here, 'cause something is different. You two ain't never been just friends, and now it's even more obvious."

I had to hand it to Lula. She was perceptive in a way that few people gave her credit for. Part of that may have been her background as a prostitute. Being perceptive is part of what can keep a woman on the street alive and safe. I glanced at Stephanie, who looked like she was at a loss as to how to answer the question, so I decided to step up. "We are definitely more than friends."

"How much more?" Lula asked, leaning forward to show her interest and giving me enough of a glimpse of her cleavage that I tried to lean back in response. "Are we talking friends with benefits, or something else?"

I grimaced at the friends with benefits reference. Partly because at the moment, I wasn't getting any benefits, but mostly, because a few days ago, I would have sworn that was all we could be to each other. I had presumed to understand what Steph wanted by applying the standard constraints of what society said all women wanted from a man. Thankfully, last night Stephanie had pointed out that in no way was she a typical woman and she had no interest in the things that I couldn't give. I glanced at her and felt myself smile at her.

"She's mine," I said. Knowing Steph might take offense at the caveman choice of words, I softened it by adding, "And I'm hers. It's a lot more than just friends, and benefits have nothing to do with it."

That was all I was willing to concede, because it was how I looked at it. We weren't after the typical things from a relationship, so standard terminology wouldn't apply, but she was mine, and saying it out loud made my chest tighten with the reality of what it meant.

She was mine to enjoy, to treasure, to protect, and…to love. And so help me God, I loved her.


	8. To the Victor Goes the Spoils

_JE created the characters below. I'm just having a little fun with them._

_Jenny (JenRar) I can't thank you enough for the hard work you've done filling in as the beta on this story. Thank you!_

**Chapter 8 – To the Victor Goes the Spoils**

_Stephanie's POV_

"She's mine, and I am hers. It's a lot more than just friends, and benefits have nothing to do with it," Ranger explained to Lula, while looking at me with such intensity that I could not turn away. I'd never seen that expression on him before. Actually, I'd never seen it on anyone before – at least not directed at me.

His explanation fit us perfectly. I didn't know if Lula would understand it, but it was all that we could say. We belonged to each other, and after fighting it for so long, giving in to a relationship with Ranger was freeing. I didn't understand how talking about seeing Joe exclusively used to make me feel like I was being caged, and yet with Ranger, it made me feel…what? I felt treasured and adored when he called me his. And when he turned it around and said that he was mine, as well, I felt protective and proud…and strangely turned on. Oh man, a woman could get lost in eyes as dark as his. Looking at him, I could almost feel the forces of gravity shift from a push to keep me planted on earth, to a linear pull to make me move closer to him in the hope that he would lean down and kiss me.

Thinking about kissing him caused my tongue to dart out to moisten my lips and my eyes to drop to his mouth. He must have felt the same pull, because no sooner had I wet my lips, then his mouth was on mine – not forcefully, but with enough intensity that I felt his kiss came with a promise that we would do this again, and soon.

Before my brain became too foggy, I heard Lula speaking to Connie. "You think if we're quiet, they'll do it right here in front of us?"

Ranger started to chuckle and pulled back just as Vinnie's door opened. "I've got popcorn if they take it any further."

I guess Ranger didn't approve of the idea of being live theatre porn for Vinnie, because his head jerked up and he growled an aggressive sound from deep in his chest that caused Vinnie to back up and shut his door, retreating to the safety of his sleazy back room office.

Lula took the interruption as her chance to jump in once more. "So you ain't sending her back to super cop?"

"No," he answered with enough force that anyone listening would believe him.

"Good thing, too," Lula assured him, "'cause she wouldn't go this time."

I didn't want her to go any further with that train of thought. There were some things I wasn't ready to discuss with Ranger, and the ending of my relationship with Joe was one of them. "This is really new, and we're still figuring it out together," I assured her.

Her eyes narrowed, and I was suddenly worried about what was about to come out of her mouth.

Before she spoke, Connie picked up a folder and said, "There's only one file for RangeMan."

Ranger stood up to take it, and then held out his hand for me, indicating it was time to leave. We approached the door slowly, and as we stepped outside, Ranger stiffened his arm so that I had to walk behind him until we got to the car. He opened the door quickly and spun me into the opening so fast it almost made me dizzy. I could see his eyes scanning over my head, and I knew he was full alert mode.

"Do you want me to jump in, or are we still trying to get noticed?" I asked, unsure of which set of signals to follow. I knew the original plan had been to attract attention, but his body language right now was all about getting me hidden.

He looked down and softly replied, "Get in the car. Something isn't right."

I didn't need to be told twice; I jumped in, knowing that Ranger had taken my hinky feeling seriously on the roof last night, and I needed to do the same thing now.

He jogged around the car and climbed in, before turning to me and saying, "I'm so sorry for bringing you into this."

I wasn't sure exactly what he was apologizing for, so I asked, "Brining me into what? The danger of another stalker, or a relationship with you?"

"Aren't they the same thing?" he asked, as the engine roared to life and he shifted into reverse.

"No, they are totally different. Stalkers come and go, and if we weren't being threatened by this one, I would have picked up my own soon enough. It has been a couple of months; I was probably due. A relationship with you is what makes enduring the stress of another stalker bearable. It gives me something to think about, instead of dwelling on the fact that someone is gunning for us," I said in explanation of how denial worked.

At the stop light, he asked, "So have you been thinking about me?"

Damn that man for being so endearing and sexy all at once. I snorted as an undignified response, and then tried to use my words instead of unladylike sounds to reply, "I've always thought about you, but since last night, it seems like my mind can't stop dwelling on you."

He smiled at that and pushed for me to share a little more, "What kind of thoughts are you having, Babe?"

I could feel my face turning pink and remembered how much easier it was to talk to him last night on the roof when he couldn't see me that well. I decided to try evading the question, "You already have enough reasons to think I'm crazy without me adding to it by telling you how my mind works. All you need to know is that you're constantly on my mind."

He pulled into the space that was always open for his Turbo, and then responded, "And you need to know that you are constantly on mine, as well. I haven't been able to concentrate all morning, thinking about leaving you sleeping in my bed. You've always been the one temptation that I was powerless to resist. I figured if we established the fact that we were together, it would make it easier to cope, but I grossly miscalculated how addictive you are. It seems the more of you that is open to me, the more I want."

I had no idea how to respond. My body seemed to think an impression of a fish was an appropriate comeback, but I felt the need to add to it. I lifted my hand slowly, trying to see if he would give me any indication that my advance was unwelcome. When I rested it against his jaw so that my thumb could stroke his bottom lip, it was like a low level of electrical current was running through us, focused on that small area of contact.

A knock on my window snapped me back to the present, and I jumped before turning and seeing Scar standing at my door. I opened it and allowed Scar and Ranger to shuffle me into the elevator. When the door closed, I turned to Ranger and asked, "Didn't you promise me sixty doughnuts?"

I caught a glimpse of a smile, before he slammed down his blank face to reply, "Cal was stopping to pick them up. You can wait by the elevator if you want to take them off his hands when he arrives, but from the moment you get them, you have only ten minutes to make them disappear."

I remembered our bet in the car and smiled, knowing there was no way I was going to lose this one. He seemed confident, as though he knew some sort of secret that had not been shared with me, but I wasn't worried. I had a weapon of my own that Ranger hadn't factored in, either.

I stood beside the door to the elevator and couldn't help but notice that Scar shadowed me. I wasn't sure what he was expected to do during the day if Ranger and I weren't on the move. Apparently, he had appointed himself my bodyguard. He had a quiet strength that I instinctually trusted, so I didn't mind it; besides, him being so close would only help my plan.

The elevator softly dinged, and Cal stepped out with five flat boxes that I knew contained a dozen doughnuts each. I took them from his hands and said in a really loud voice, "Hey, guys, I've got sixty doughnuts that need to be gone in ten minutes. Ranger bought them and said you can all enjoy them. If you'll agree to help me eat them, I'll be sure you don't have any creamy filling on your face when you're done."

I caught a glimpse of Ranger smirking at my announcement and glancing at his watch, before the guys gathered around me and the boxes were yanked from my hands.

Lester was the first to finish his Boston Cream, and he purposefully smeared a little filling on the corner of his mouth. "Hey, Beautiful, do I get to pick how you clean my face?"

I put my hands on my hips and tried to swing them a little more than usual for the five steps it took to reach him. I pressed my body against his, put my index finger in my mouth, and sucked on it as sensually as possible. Then I used the moistened finger to wipe away the filling, before putting it back into my mouth to lick it off. When I finished, it was deathly silent in the office, and I briefly worried that I had crossed the line, but then Lester's face erupted in his trademark grin.

He said, "That is so worth getting called to the mats for. Give me another doughnut."

As he stepped away for another one, I had a steady string of guys waiting to have their faces cleaned. I had to work a little faster, but the organized line that formed helped speed things along, and seven and a half minutes after the elevator doors opened, sixty doughnuts were gone. All the guys were grinning like school boys, I'd gotten enough of the filling to have made up a couple of doughnuts alone, and Ranger was still standing in his office doorway, shaking his head from side to side.

I moved over to join him and asked, "What's the matter, big guy? You didn't specify any rules about how I was to motivate the guys to eat the doughnuts, so I believe tonight you owe me a massage."

I didn't wait for him to respond, figuring it was so rare to get the upper hand with Ranger that I didn't want to have the moment ruined by letting him get in a word. I hid in my cubicle and let out a breath of relief when Ranger's door closed and I knew I'd won.

Scar pulled up a chair on wheels, and I asked, "Did you like your first Boston Cream?" I didn't remember cleaning his face, so I hoped he got one before the guys ate them all.

His whole face shifted and broke out into a big grin. When he smiled like that, his eyes lit up and the scar that marred his face seemed to diminish.

"You don't talk much, do you?" I asked, realizing he'd probably only spoken a half a dozen words since I'd met him.

"Not much," he admitted, and the smile faded, leaving the evidence at the forefront of his face once more that he had endured something terrible in his life.

"That's okay," I assured him, turning back to my computer to try and get some work done. "I tend to talk enough for both of us."

I picked up the list Lester had given Ranger of individuals and companies that had locations that could allow for a view of activity on the RangeMan roof. I smiled a little at the thought that he'd asked them to act on my concern that I'd felt like we were being watched. He didn't pick on me for not being able to be specific or try and shrug it off as a passing plane or my overactive imagination. I'd contributed something, and he'd taken my concern as a possible lead. I felt myself sitting up a little straighter at the thought that Ranger was the one man in my life that treated me like an equal.

I decided to tackle the three individuals on the list first, assuming they would be more cut and dry than the two businesses. Before we'd left for the bonds office, I'd run the check on Thomas Masters. He owned a condo on the top floor of the building to the east of RangeMan. It had printed out, and while reviewing it, I saw that he traveled a good bit between Trenton and England, where he had an art import business.

Hector had taught me to log into several of the major airline's systems to check passenger manifests, and sure enough, last night, Mr. Thomas was in England, so I could mark him off as a possibility. I skimmed over the rest of the information that I'd printed out, but didn't see any kind of warning flag that he might be a risk, so I felt good about marking him off the list.

The next name of Alan Burrows only brought up a shell of information. I could get a social security number and lease agreement for the top floor apartment of the building to our west, but I couldn't get any credit cards, and the bank information only pulled one account with activity equal to the rent payment on the property near RangeMan. It appeared he had rented the apartment for the last eighteen months and was a good tenet, but a call to the landlord quickly shot down my hopes of getting any information when he said that he'd never met his renter and had never seen anyone come or go from the apartment in all the time he'd been there. Clearly, this was a front for something or someone, but the lack of information made it impossible to get any further.

I decided to pull together the lack of information as evidence that something was off, and when I stood up to grab the reports from the printer, I realized Scar was still sitting beside me, but he was holding what I'd printed.

I looked at him and waited while he scanned it, and when he met my eyes, he said simply, "That's trouble."

"Exactly," I agreed, before sitting down and jumping into the next option – Emma Barnhart.

As soon as I read the name, I rolled my eyes and wondered if she could be any relation to Joyce. I had to hold my mind back from jumping to any conclusions when a surface check showed me they were cousins. The picture on her license bore an eerie resemblance to my arch nemesis, and I was convinced that if I put enough time into this lead, I'd find a connection to pin her down as the stalker. I was already convinced that the stalker was a woman, even if Ranger wasn't ready to concede that point.

I was looking over her credit card history and found a rather substantial bar tab that was put through after Ranger and I came back downstairs. It would be unlikely that she could be watching us on the roof and getting wasted at a bar at the same time, but anyone could have made the charges if they had her card. There were several other conflicts with the time line of the package in my apartment and a plane ticket that would have put her in the air at that time. Knowing that I was getting obsessed with trying to make the stalker MO fit Emma, I hit the desk in frustration that it obviously wasn't her.

I jumped when a hand softly touched my shoulder, and I spun around to see an uncertain looking Scar holding out a bottle of water and a sandwich. I had skipped lunch, and as soon as my eyes saw the food, I realized I was hungry. Maybe food would help me to rebuild a proper perspective. I was willing to condemn this woman simply because of who she was related to. I was related to Vinnie and certainly wouldn't appreciate anyone assuming that because he was a pervert, they needed to lock up their pets and small animals if I walked by.

"She's clean?" Scar asked after I'd calmed myself down and consumed half the sandwich.

"It looks that way, but she's related to someone that has a beef with me, and I was convinced that connection would have been enough to substantiate a motive for threatening Ranger," I confessed, wondering if he'd think I was an idiot for jumping to a conclusion like that.

He flipped through the reports I'd printed and pointed at some of her credit card receipts, before he said, "Alcoholic. She could still be trouble."

I glanced at the pattern every other night like clock work of a bar tab of over fifty dollars. If she was only paying for her drinks, she was consuming at least five to six mixed drinks a night – even more if she was sticking to cheaper beers and shots. Either she was trying to get the attention of someone at Eddie's Bar, or she had a drinking problem. That made it less likely that she was organized enough to stalk Ranger without being discovered, but a check in at the bar to confirm she was the one building up the bar bills would be worth it before marking her off as a possibility.

He put the reports for Emma and Alan in separate folders and took them to Tank's office. I figured that was odd, since it was Ranger's stalker, but I didn't question him, because I knew Tank would pass it along.

I jumped into the businesses and spent the next four hours looking at employee listings and trying to find anything that might spell out a connection between a staff person and RangeMan. One business was a home health nursing agency that had been renting space in the building to the north of Haywood for the last two months; it appeared to only be open from nine to five. Since we were out there much later than that, I doubted this company was the threat to Ranger.

That only left Thomas Manufacturing to the south of RangeMan. They had fifteen employees – eight of which had criminal records; two were skips through Vinnie's. I let out a long breath and realized this was going to take a while to get through.

The voice I now knew belonged to Scar said, "Give me one, you do one, and they'll be done twice as fast."

"Did you used to be a guardian angel in a past life?" I asked, trying to thank him for sitting with me all afternoon. Strangely enough, his quiet presence was companionable, and I wasn't as bored going through the reports, because I knew someone was looking over it with me.

His eyes dropped to his laptop, and he shook his head no. "Nothing angelic about me."

I turned so that I wasn't facing him, before disagreeing. "Say what you want; I'm certain you are an angel with the patience of a saint, and you're not going to convince me otherwise."

I was lost in arrest reports for Marcus Smart, when Lester walked by and whistled. "Beautiful, you've been here all afternoon, and you aren't asleep yet. What are you into, because I know it's not the stimulating conversation from this guy that's keeping you awake."

I saw that it was almost seven, so I stood up, ready to call it a day, and replied, "Some people have more to offer than empty words." With that greeting card sentiment, I kissed the buzz cut on the top of Scar's head and said, "Are you interested in more of this excitement tomorrow?"

He nodded with another of his stunning smiles, and I excused myself to see if Ranger had a plan for the evening. We'd only put in one public appearance today, and I knew the plan was two, but I was exhausted from sitting at a desk all afternoon, and I wasn't really in the mood to go out.

The door to his office was open, so I walked in, figuring he had super Batman skills and would already be aware of my approaching presence. I cleared my throat when I walked in, and Ranger looked up, as though he hadn't realized I was there.

"Did I just sneak up on you?" I asked, wondering if it were even possible.

I got a half smile as an answer, and then Ranger stood up and started shutting off his computer and closing his files. "You don't have to stop just because I'm here," I assured him.

"I was only planning on working as long as you were," he replied, not looking up. "It seemed like you and Scar made a good team," he added when he stepped out from behind the desk.

I agreed. "It's strange, but I enjoyed having the company. Has he always been this friendly?" I asked.

Ranger laughed out loud. "No, I don't think I've ever heard Scar described as friendly. If anything, I get regular complaints that he's anti-social and refuses to work with a partner. If he's talking to you other than to demand you get out of his way, then you can count yourself as lucky."

"Why is he here, if he's so difficult to work with?" I blurted out, figuring there had to be more to it than what Ranger had said.

I got a head tilt to the side, as though that were a response. I put my hands on my hips, ready to go toe to toe with Ranger to get more information, but he wisely backed down and told me, "I brought him here from Boston because he's damn good at spotting a threat, and he's one of the few people that have gone up against odds worse than I have and lived to tell about it."

I dropped my hands from my hips immediately, being faced with the harsh reality of what Scar must have gone through. When I turned to look back across the cubicles in the direction of where I'd spent my afternoon, Ranger came up behind me and put his hands on my hips, leaning in to whisper in my ear.

"I brought him here because he's the best and because this threat now involves you. I can't rest at night unless I know I'm doing everything possible to keep you safe."

I leaned into the solid body behind me and drew in a deep breath, savoring the scent that was unique to Ranger. It was his body wash and manly strength all rolled into one, and it was quickly shifting my hormones into overdrive.

I felt my hair being pulled away from the side of my neck and Ranger's warm mouth slowly moved from my ear to my shoulder. Before my knees began to buckle and I lost the ability to speak, I said, "Don't you owe me a massage?"

He responded without pulling his lips away from my skin. "Are there any trouble spots in particular that need attention?"

Shit, this man was pure sex. What in the hell was I was thinking last night when I suggested we keep the physical part off the table until after the stalker had been captured? I could be upstairs having Ranger induced orgasms right now if I hadn't opened up my big mouth and stuck my foot so far in it that I couldn't beg for what I wanted. I was on edge enough right now that I knew it wouldn't take much to send me over. Maybe I could get him to straddle my hips and work on my lower back. Between the pressure and the movement, I might be able to get a little release without him knowing it. I could be quiet enough to keep it hidden from Ranger, right?


	9. Rules Were Meant to be Broken

_I'm only borrowing from the genius of JE. The characters aren't mine._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you so much for rescuing me from my grammatical mistakes and run-on sentences as the beta on this chapter. _

**Chapter 9 – Rules were Meant to be Broken**

_Ranger's POV_

"Where do you want me?" Stephanie asked suggestively as she stepped out of the bathroom with her hair up in a clip.

She was wearing a pair of silk boxers rolled up at the waist – I was nearly positive they'd been in my dresser and not in her bags – and a tank top that was painted on her like a second skin. It was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. I wanted to close the distance between us, grab that feeble clip from her hair, and run my fingers through her wild curls, allowing them to spring free. Then I wanted to bend her over the bed and …

"Ah, Ranger," she said, interrupting my thoughts before they got too much further away from me. "Are you all right?"

"Fine, Babe," I quickly responded, trying to keep my cover that all was well. Pointing at the bed, I instructed, "Just lay on the bed on your stomach, and I'll see if I can't work off my debt."

With a playful grin, she walked to the bed and climbed up on her knees, before getting on all fours and arranging herself in the right position. While she was still on her hands and knees with her luscious ass in the air, she turned her head to look at where I was standing at the foot of the bed and asked, "Is this where you want me?"

My mouth was dry, and my hands were clammy. Oh hell yes, this was where I wanted her. Fortunately, I was still in control of my mouth enough to keep from saying that, and instead, I only said, "That's fine, as long as you're comfortable."

She lowered herself down on the bed, and I adjusted my cargos for the second time since she'd stepped into the bedroom. I ducked into the bathroom for a bottle of baby oil, rubbing some onto my hands, and then looking down with a smile that she couldn't see. "Babe, if you want me to rub your back, you need to take off your shirt."

"Umm," she started without much success, before spitting out her hesitation, "I'm not wearing anything under the shirt."

"I'm failing to see the problem here," I replied, getting a kick out of how modest she could be in the privacy of my apartment. I mean, it was just the two of us, and I'd seen everything before. Then a thought struck me, and I asked, "Don't you trust me?"

She jerked up and pulled the tank top over her head, before lying back down so quickly, I wasn't even able to sneak a peak of her heavenly breasts. "I trust you," she admitted in a shy sounding voice that was as much of a turn on as her virtual nakedness.

I leaned over the bed, put my hands on her shoulders, and began to massage the muscles there. She was tight, which helped me to focus on getting rid of the knots, instead of the fact that her beautiful skin was bare in front of me.

After a moan that made me hard enough to cut diamonds, she lifted her head and said, "You're going to hurt your back bending over like that. Just straddle me so you'll be more comfortable."

It took me a minute to realize she was offering me exactly what I wanted. I toed off my shoes and carefully lowered myself so that I was sitting at the back of her thighs up on my knees. I hoped she wouldn't notice the erection that was hitting just south of the perfectly rounded ass currently serving as my cushion.

"This feels so good," she said on a long, low exhale, only intensifying the way I was suffering being so close to what I wanted, and yet so far from it. My hands were still pressing into the knots at her shoulders, but my mind was nowhere near her upper torso.

"Tell me something," she said, adjusting her chin so that it rested on her folded arms, allowing her to talk more easily.

"What?" I asked, assuming there was another question rolling around in her mind that she wanted me to answer.

"I don't care; just talk to me," she clarified, before falling silent, waiting for me to talk.

I lowered my hands to her shoulder blades, and then said, "I'm allergic to chocolate."

She sucked in a sudden breath and twisted her head to get a glimpse of me, before saying, "That is the most tragic thing I've ever heard."

I felt like I should explain it a little more. "More than a small taste, and I get a migraine. It didn't bother me growing up and I used to love it, but then I hit eighteen and noticed every time Abuela Rosa made a chocolate cake, I would get a killer headache. It was the only common thing I could come up with to explain the pain every time it occurred, so I went to a doctor, and he confirmed it. The way my body processed the caffeine in cocoa was taxing to the blood vessels in my head and caused the pain."

"So that's why you don't eat sweets?" she asked.

I shrugged, and then remembered she couldn't see me and told her, "It's why I don't eat chocolate. When I gave that up to prevent the headaches, I was entering the army. I had to start eating better in order to keep up the physical demands of my training, and I didn't get the chance to have many sweets, so I got out of the habit of eating them. Now, I avoid them most of the time because it takes so much work to maintain my conditioning, and I don't want to have to increase the effort just to satisfy a sweet tooth."

"I'm sorry you can't have chocolate..." She repeated her earlier sentiment in a voice that sounded as though she were getting sleepy.

I moved farther down to her lower back and found it just as tight as her shoulders had been. "Have you been in pain?" I couldn't help but ask. "You've got knots in your muscles that would have a lot of people reaching for anti-inflammatory medication."

She shook her head. "No pills. You get used to it, and it goes away on its own."

"Have you done much stretching? I think some slow, controlled movement might help to loosen these muscles so that you don't have to be uncomfortable," I said, trying to convince her.

"Stretching and controlled movement sounds a lot like exercise," she rebutted, but I could see the smile on her face, and even with her eyes closed, I could tell she was happily teasing.

"You know, some of the guys have done yoga for this very reason. It's a form of exercise, yes, but it would do your muscles a world of good," I replied.

"Who does yoga?" she asked, opening her eyes. I knew she was interested if she was battling sleep long enough to get more information.

"Cal used to. I know Bobby and Lester have both done it, but I think it was more to pick up girls than for any form of conditioning. Hector goes to a male only gym and takes a class, and I think Scar used to do one form of yoga, but I'm not sure if he still does it." I rattled off the list, trying to make the point that a lot of people had done it, so it was a legitimate form of exercise.

She lifted her torso slightly and repeated, "Scar did yoga?"

I tamped down the jealousy that passed over me when her continued interest in Scar hit me. They'd spent the entire afternoon together, and now, practically naked in my bed with me on top of her, she was still talking about him. Of course, last night, she was the one that spoke of how we would be monogamous during the testing of our relationship, so I didn't have a reason to feel threatened. Honestly, if there was a guy that was worse at sharing his feeling than I was, it would be Scar. I made a sound of affirmation, and she laid down once more.

"So were you mad about how I got the guys to eat the doughnuts this morning?" she asked, reminding me about her stunt with my men.

I couldn't stop myself from smiling at the memory. "No, I wasn't mad, but I was feeling a little left out."

"You can't have a Boston Cream because it has chocolate on it," she replied.

"I didn't want the doughnut; I wanted the clean up afterward," I confessed.

"Yea, I'd love to lick something off your face, too. But with you, I don't think I'd use my finger. I'm pretty sure I'd have to use my tongue for that job," she replied, and then her face started to turn red. I got the impression she'd answered me honestly and then was embarrassed by her forward words.

I moved down a little more and worked the muscles on her hips. "So we've been trying this out for a day now. How do you think we're doing?" I asked, hoping the endorphins I was releasing in her with the massage would get her to respond without filtering her thoughts.

She made a happy sound that tested the strength of the zipper in my pants, and then sighed. "I don't know about you, but it's easier than I thought. I mean, you're talking and sharing, we're working and making progress with the stalker... It feels natural."

"So that's a good, right?" I felt like there was a 'but' that she hadn't gotten to yet.

"It is a good thing, but it almost seems too easy. We had a conversation on the roof and both admitted to having feelings for each other and that we'd try being open about it and seeing what happens, and then we just did it. I keep waiting for something to happen to ruin it all. I mean, this is me we're talking about, and nothing this good and simple happens to me," she explained.

I understood exactly what she meant. In all honesty, I'd felt much the same way. If it was this easy, why had I been so hell bent on avoiding relationships all this time? Then I had a thought. "Maybe it's because we've already paid our dues, Babe. We've both seen each other at our worst, and we have trust between us that can only be built when someone has repeatedly proven themselves to you. We've done the hard parts of learning to accept each other for who we really are and learning how to support each other, so maybe it's time for us to reap the benefit of all that we've already done. This only has to be hard if we make it that way. I'm in a relationship with my best friend; I think it's supposed to be simple when there is a solid friendship first."

She was silent for a long time after my speech. I started rethinking what I'd said, wondering if I'd misspoken or assumed more than I should between us.

"The thing is," she started, finally breaking the silence, "I'm feeling a lot more for you than just friendship."

"Me, too," I agreed, running my hands up from the bottom of her spine to her neck and pulling out that clip that I resented for hiding her hair from me.

"And I'm at that point where I have to either put up some pretty quick walls to protect myself, or I'm going to be so far gone that I don't know how I'll survive if this doesn't last," She arched her back to lift her head and added, "I'm scared of missing this chance to have everything I've ever wanted, and I'm terrified of jumping at the chance and falling so hard it kills me."

I lowered my chest to her back and pulled her to me. "Babe, I feel the same way. But I'm at the point where I can't fight to keep the walls up anymore; I'm tired of fighting the pull between us. We know we're great as friends, but I believe we will be even better by opening up and having it all. I'm just as scared as you, but I think we owe it to ourselves to jump together."

Steph moved her hand to wrap it around my wrist near her collarbone. "You aren't going to get tired of me and wish you had your freedom?"

I shook my head no and replied, "You aren't going to get tired of my quiet approach and wish you had someone who would talk more?"

She made a sound of disagreement, before pushing, "You aren't going to get irritated that I don't like my gun and I can't defend myself in a real fight?"

I nearly chuckled at that question and countered, "You aren't going to get tired of me pushing you to carry a weapon and insisting that you let me defend you when there's a need?"

"You want to defend me?" She turned our banter around, catching me off guard.

"I want to protect you from harm and fight for you when it's needed. I want to push anyone the hell away from you when they try to dictate what you can do, and then clear the path to give you the chance to follow whatever dream you want to chase. I want to watch you fly, and when you're soaring, I want to share in your joy. I don't want a half ass shell attempt to be partners. I want an all consuming passion that burns in us both while we share it all with each other." I had to stop talking and swallow. I didn't usually make speeches, and I hoped I hadn't said too much and made this awkward, but after holding back around her for so long, it felt good to finally just let go.

"I want to walk in your office and sit on your desk at night to insist you shut it down and take a break. And when you're stumped and don't know what to do, I want to be the sounding board you use to sort it out. I want you to fight for me when I need it, but I want you to recognize that sometimes, the battles are mine alone and give me the room to fight them. And if things don't go well, I want you to pick me up and help me to figure out what went wrong. I want to cry and laugh and dream with you in bed at night, and I want to work and argue and smile and celebrate with you during the day. I want it all, but I only want it with you." When she finished her confession, I was dumbfounded. We were on exactly the same page.

It was time to show some of the courage I'd possessed my whole life and not back down from my fear of what my next sentence would do to the mood. There was one more thing to add in order to know I'd been completely honest with her. It might seem too soon, but I'd been holding this truth back for three years.

"I love you, Stephanie."

I felt her chest expand as she took in a sudden breath at my words, "I love you, too, Ranger."

I moved off of her so that I wasn't pinning her to the bed, and then flipped her over. "Ric, Babe," I corrected her, staring into the deepest blue I'd ever seen in her eyes. "My friends call my Ric."

She nodded slowly that she'd heard and would do it, but she didn't move enough to break the eye contact. "I love you, too, Ric," she finally said.

At those words, it felt like something in my chest fell apart. It felt so overwhelming that it bordered on pain. Strange that she was the one wearing only a skimpy pair of silk shorts and I was still in my uniform, but I felt completely stripped down in front of her in this moment.

She lifted a hand to touch the side of my face. Her smooth fingers moved to trace my jaw line, and then slipped behind my head to pull out the tie that held my hair back. She ran her fingers through it, and I shut my eyes, feeling completely exposed.

"Ranger," she said, and I tightened my eyes, stubbornly keeping them closed. She realized her mistake and corrected herself. "Ric."

I looked at her and saw such warmth and acceptance in her eyes.

"Do you remember that comment I made about holding off on anything physical until after we had the stalker sorted out?" she asked, and my heart began to race at what she might be implying.

"I remember," I said, not wanting to stop whatever it was she wanted to say.

"I think in light of what we just said, there really isn't much of a point in waiting, do you?" she asked, voicing what I'd so wanted to hear.

I started to lean forward to kiss her, but then stopped myself. "Are you sure, Babe?"

"I'm completely sure, Ric," she answered, trying out my name once more.

There was no way I could explain what it did to me to hear her use my real name. I couldn't tell her, but I could definitely show her.

With that thought, I slowly lowered myself down to her and tried to lightly touch my lips to hers. I wanted her to know this was more than just a physical connection for me. But once our mouths connected, she moved both hands to back of my neck and pulled me down, clearly saying she wasn't interested in light, slow touches.

I wanted to give Stephanie anything she wanted, but I wasn't going to rush through this, as though the brief moment of coming was the purpose. Stephanie and I were both physical people, and we had the potential to be dynamic lovers, so I wanted to savor this time at the start of our relationship. I wanted to make it absolutely unbelievable and unforgettable for her.

I kissed her back, allowing the urgency she needed to convey to come through. I didn't hold back as I pushed my tongue out to tease her bottom lip, and when she opened her mouth to take a breath, I pushed my way in to explore and savor her again.

Her hands left my neck and moved down my back to work at the shirt I was wearing. I could tell she was anxious to get it off and figured it would only help things along if I caught up to her state of undress. I pulled away and smiled at the groan of displeasure she let escape.

"Too many layers," I explained, and she nodded her agreement quickly. I stood up and threw my shirt on the floor, just as her hands grabbed the boxers she was wearing. I dropped the buckle of my belt and covered one of her hands with mine to stop her progress. She was confused, but the wrinkles in her brow disappeared when I said, "That's my job."

She nodded that she would wait, and then crossed her arms awkwardly over her chest, as though trying to hide behind them. Why this woman would be self-conscious about her body was beyond me, but I was going to make it a life goal to get rid of what ever hang-ups she had about her appearance. And when I set my mind to something, I didn't stop until I achieved it.

I shed my pants and socks, and since I'd not worn underwear since high school, I was completely naked in front of her. Careful to keep my hands to my side, I wanted to show her between us there was no reason for modesty. I crawled up from the foot of the bed until my hands could grip the rolled waist of the boxers. I pulled them down centimeters at the time, using the gradual unveiling of her body as a means to build up the already unbearable tension in the air.

I realized as I continued to reveal the milky flesh that had been hidden behind the dark silk that I hadn't come to any hair, and I wondered if she had waxed or shaved, because I remembered a small patch of curls from the last time we were together. By the time the boxers were at her thighs, I couldn't take my eyes off the smooth skin in front of me. I'd never seen anything this sexy. I lost the ability to continue the slow torture of removing the pants, and I found myself backing up in order to pull them off and toss them aside.

I put my hands on top of her feet and slowly moved over her ankles, up her calves, and across her knees. She demurely bent a knee and lifted it to slightly cross her legs. I moved my hands to her thighs and pulled her legs apart once more, unable to take such sexy displays and unwilling to allow her to attempt to hide from me. I shifted my hands to the backs of her thighs and lifted her legs one at the time to drape them over my shoulders.

"Ric…" she said as a soft plea.

"I'm here, Babe, but I'm not rushing through this. You are the sexiest thing I've ever seen, and it may take me all night to show you what I'm feeling right now. I'm going to start here and work my way over your body so that you never doubt how adored you are and how much I love every part of you – your crazy curls, your mile long legs, your responsive nerves, and your warm heart."

"Oh, Ric," she murmured, trying to speak once more, but her voice cracked, and my heart felt as though it broke in that sliver of sound.

"Shhh." I tried to soothe her, running one hand up to touch her cheek and using the other to run under her bottom to shift the angle of her hips.

She leaned into my touch briefly, but when I pushed her legs apart once more and pulled her hips up again so that she was open in front of my mouth, she stilled, as though tensing up. I wanted her to relax so that she could enjoy this as much as I knew I was going to, so I slowed down once more and took my hand away from her face and put it over her lower stomach. I planted soft kisses on her inner thigh, and when I felt her legs begin to relax, I moved back to focus on her core.

At first, I just hovered nearly touching her skin, but only allowing the breath from my mouth to make contact. I felt her shiver in anticipation, and that gave me the encouragement I needed to move forward and run my tongue from the tender tissue just below her opening, across the sensitive hole, over her clit, and finally ending by gently scraping my teeth where her curls used to be.

"Oh Rick, please," she babbled, making wonderful sounds to my ears.

"Please what?" I asked, knowing I'd do anything she asked of me at this moment. I knew she'd probably say I was torturing her with my slow approach, but in fact, the torture was all on me to hold back from ravaging her the way my body wanted me to.

She shook her head from side to side, and I smiled, knowing that talking was not on the table for her right now. To think I'd made the woman who loved to talk speechless was a heady feeling, and I wanted to know what other extremes I could push her to.

I traced the same path my tongue had taken with a finger. The muscles in her legs completely relaxed at that movement, and I grinned as the weight finally rested on me like I wanted. She was opening herself to me and trusting me with her body, and I realized there was nothing as sexy as her belief that I would care for her in this vulnerable position.

I used a single finger to softly trace the skin around her opening. With each successive circle, I moved slightly in so that the rotations brought me more and more into the warmth of her body. I rested my forehead on her pubic bone and drew in a deep breath, letting the scent of her roll over me. Everything about this experience was stimulating some sense of mine and overwhelming me with desire.

The smell of her heat, the feel of her skin, and the moisture of her body on my fingers mixed with the soft sounds she would make each time I pushed forward into her. My tongue came out, and I realized I needed to taste her again in order to have all my senses alive with her pleasure. I slid my tongue in with my finger and could instantly pick up the tangy taste that was only Stephanie's. Like the ocean, it was slightly salty, but warm and invigorating at the same time. Using a second finger in the place of my tongue, I used my mouth on her clit instead and had to move to stay with her when her hips bucked up from the unexpected assault.

"Yes, Ric," she said with a little more volume, and I knew then, I wanted to hear my name being shouted from her rosy lips.

I began to pump my fingers, curling them on each withdrawal to insure they passed the most sensitive area inside. She began to tense up again, and I knew this had nothing to do with embarrassment over her body. I let my teeth graze over her tender tissue, and then opened my mouth and drew her in forcefully, before alternating between sucking to bring her to the edge and licking to soothe back some of the sensation.

"God, Ric, please…I need…I need…" She was back to babbling, and it was getting louder.

I added a third finger and stopped the softer licks to her clit, concentrating on drawing her into my mouth to bring her over the top.

A hand gripped at my hair, and then I heard it. "Yes! Ric, Ohhhhh!" and the muscles around my finger clamped down in orgasm, making my dick complain that it was missing out on the tightness her body was capable of.

I pulled back to sooth her once more with the flat of my tongue and slowed my movements inside until I could feel her shivers begin to subside. She made a soft whimpering noise, and I decided I needed to hear that again. If that was her sound of relaxed satisfaction, I needed to hear a lot more of it.

I removed my fingers from her and slid them straight into my mouth, taking my time to clean off every drop of her from my skin. When I finished, I looked up and saw her watching me. I couldn't stop the smirk that came over my face. "Ready?" I asked, with an eyebrow raised for effect.

Her eyes opened wider, and she wondered, "Ready for what?"

I moved to stalk up her hips, over her stomach, and up to her chest. "Ready for more, Babe – so much more," I explained.

Her face flushed with a beautiful blush, and I thought I'd never seen her look as beautiful as she did in this moment.

Then she did something even in my wildest fantasies I hadn't imagined. She raised her hands to rest flat against my chest and pushed hard to indicate she wanted me to roll off of her. I moved immediately, never wanting to force something on her that she didn't want. But she followed my movement, and when my back was flat on the bed, she was straddling my hips with a smile on her face.

"I'm ready for more, Batman," she teased with her superhero name for me. "The question is, are you?"


	10. Bolder

_JE deserves all the credit for creating these wonderful characters._

_Jenny (JenRar) I can't thank you enough for your fast and gentle work as the beta on this story._

**Chapter 10 – Bolder**

_Stephanie's POV_

I woke up slowly and couldn't help but smile when I moved to get even closer to the warm mass of muscle serving as my pillow. I was flooded with the memory of how we'd spent the last night together, and even the soreness that was apparent when I moved couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I was betting that I was pretty rough looking after all the activity in bed, and that I was practically glowing like a Christmas tree.

"Morning, Babe," came the sexiest voice I'd ever heard. It was deep and rumbly and made his chest vibrate. I instantly wanted to hear him say something else in the hope that the shiver that passed through my body at the sound would be repeated.

"Good morning, Ric," I said in return, hoping that me saying his name in the morning light would have the same effect it did last night.

He moved so quickly, I couldn't help but think of a panther pouncing on its prey. I was on my back with his body pressing me into the mattress before I could even blink.

"Do you know how much I love hearing you say my name?" he asked.

The boldness I'd felt last night hadn't gone away with the appearance of the sun, so I replied, "I know how much you liked hearing me shout it. My throat is sore from all the screaming."

His whole face lit up at my response. Apparently, he liked the new more assertive me. I know last night when I pushed him over and challenged that he needed to be ready for me, he'd seemed surprised, but he hadn't fought me on it. He'd given me full access to his body, and I'd taken my time in becoming reacquainted with every inch of him. I'd worked him over and done everything I could think of to tease him so that he was reduced to mumbling things that definitely didn't make sense. Thank goodness Lula had given me some erotic romance novels to read, because some of the things covered in those stories were definitely well received when I'd tried them.

When I'd heard the word payback, I'd known I needed to give him some relief, and when he'd shouted my name as he came deep in my throat, I'd realized I'd never taken the initiative in bed before and I'd had no idea what I'd been missing. I liked the control; I loved determining when he could come and when I would slow it down to keep him from going over the top. I think being in charge turned me on to a degree I'd never experienced before.

Ranger brought me back to the present by trailing a series of kisses across my collarbone. "About last night," he said, moving from under my neck, over to my shoulder. "Have you ever done something like that before?"

I couldn't think straight. Between the attention he was giving me with his mouth on my skin, the memory of each time we joined during the night, and vibration of his voice against my chest, I couldn't for the life of me figure out what he was talking about. He stopped moving, as though trying to help me clear my head enough to answer him.

"I've had sex before," I finally answered, hoping it would be enough to get him moving again.

He chuckled. "Not sex, Babe. You turned into a bit of a dominate. I didn't think you had it in you, but it was such a turn on to hear your mouth tell me to lie back down or you'd stop, and to feel your nails digging into me as a reminder that you hadn't told me I could get up. You were so in tune with what was running through my head that you knew just when to slow down and when to put more pressure into your actions. If you've never tried out that side of your sensuality, then I'm in deep shit, because you the more you do it, the better you'll become."

I couldn't stop the smile that came over my face. I had dominated Ranger? I had shocked Batman, and now he was worried about me being too much for him to handle. Oh man, that was the greatest news I'd gotten since the Tasty Pastry set up a reward club so that after buying twelve dozen doughnuts, you could get a dozen for free. Comparing sex with Ranger to free doughnuts made me laugh, and he lifted his head to look at me and raised an eyebrow. I didn't want him to think I was laughing at him, so I said, "It's not you. I was just thinking of doughnuts, and comparing them to you struck me as funny."

There was a low growl as he used his knee to open my legs farther and pressed himself against my tender core. "If you think I resemble a soft doughnut in any way, I think I need to remind you of some of my less than sweet qualities."

The friction between us was beginning to make my thoughts of being too sore to do anything disappear. "You did promise me a taste of your cream filling anytime I wanted it, didn't you?"

He smiled in response, but before he could say anything, the phone on the nightstand began to ring. Both us of turned our faces and glared at the interruption. He reached over and hit a button, putting it on speaker, and barked out, "Report."

Tank's voice came over the line and said, "Bossman, it's nearing 0800, and I wondered if we needed to send up a search party."

I tried to stop the laugh that was threatening to bubble out, but failed miserably at the thought that I'd tired the sex god out enough that he was three hours late getting up.

"Good morning, Stephanie," he added after hearing my laughter.

"Good morning, Tank," I replied, before putting my hand over my mouth to keep from interrupting again.

Then Tank added one more thing that set the agenda for the day. "There is another envelope, and I've been holding it until you came down first. Should I go ahead and begin processing it?"

Ranger's stalker had contacted him again, and I knew that despite where our activity this morning had been heading, it wasn't going anywhere now.

"Hold it; I'll be there in twenty." Without waiting for a response, he leaned over and hung up the phone.

"Sorry about that," he said, rolling off of me.

I sat up, pulling the sheet up to cover my naked chest. The motion wasn't lost on Ranger, and he turned back to face me. "Why are you doing that? You weren't shy last night."

"Last night, it was dark and we were in the middle of…things, but now, the sun is up and we've got to go downstairs and face whatever creepy thing this stalker has come up with to send to you," I explained.

He stood up and offered his hand to me. I hesitated, but in the end, I told myself this was my Ric and the sun being up wasn't a valid reason to revert back to the "unsure of myself Stephanie" I had always been. I'd liked being assertive and confident last night. There was no reason to give that up.

When I let go of the sheet and took his hand, the smile I got was more than enough response to let me know he liked my decision. "Come on. We'll shower together to save time, and then go down together."

"Are you sure it will save time?" I challenged, figuring if we were in there together, it might slow him down.

"Absolutely," he assured me, adjusting the water temperature. "We could make love in the bed and then take a shower, or we could get in the shower and make love at the same time. The second option seems more efficient."

I followed him in and smiled, loving the way his thoughts were going this morning. Ranger opened the Bulgari and began lathering up a shower sponge. He silently washed my body, paying extra attention to my breasts and between my legs.

"Sore?" he asked when I winced slightly.

I just nodded in response, not feeling the need to have a discussion about it. I didn't expect him to drop the sponge and kneel in front of me, leaving the water cascading down my back. He lifted my right leg, rested my foot on the built in bench behind him, and then proceeded to softly kiss and tease me.

At first, I wondered if the tender approach he was using would work, but when he instructed me, "Close your eyes," I shut them and felt every brush of his tongue and every slow movement of his fingers that much more intensely.

It only took a couple of moments for him to bring me to the brink and then softly guide me over. He held my hips tightly as I slowly came back down, and when I opened my eyes and looked at him kneeling in front of me, having experienced such a tender display of how he felt about me, I was overwhelmed with emotion.

He must have seen the water building in my eyes, because he stood up quickly and held my face between his hands. "I love you, Stephanie."

"I love you, too," I admitted, as a single tear escaped from my eye. I needed to change the subject to keep from embarrassing myself further, so I looked down at the impressive erection between us.

He saw what had caught my eye and shook his head no. "If you touch me, we won't make it out of here for an hour. This time, I want you to sit here and just watch."

I let him move me to sit on the bench, and then watched him pick up the sponge he'd dropped to care for me and begin to efficiently clean himself. At first, I was disappointed, thinking as good looking as he was, I didn't really need to just sit here and observe how to quickly clean a man. But when I heard the sponge hit the floor once more, I looked up and saw the expression on his face change and the look in his eye told me the show was about to begin. He put one hand on the shower wall, and with the other, he gripped himself to begin to slowly stoke from base to head, swiping his thumb over the top each time.

He was watching me intently, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from what he was doing to himself. I never thought watching someone pleasure themselves would be a turn on, but boy, was I wrong. I wanted in on the action in the worst way, but I respected his wish that I just sit and watch. I could see his strokes begin to increase in speed, and his breathing even sped up slightly, just before his hips thrust forward and he began to come over his own knuckles. I licked my lips involuntarily, thinking of what a waste it was to see that go down the drain.

"You didn't like just sitting there, did you?" he asked, and I shook my head no. He knelt in front of me once more and kissed my lips tenderly. "Next time, I may want to be the one to watch, so I can see how it feels."

I refused to fall back into the role of the girl so easily embarrassed that she was speechless, so despite my red face, I replied, "That's a privilege you'll have to earn."

The brief look of shock that came over his face at my response made my bold words totally worth it.

In the end, it took us thirty minutes instead of twenty to get downstairs, but there were no glances at a clock or tapping of a wristwatch to make the point that we were late. As soon as we stepped off the elevator on five, Tank appeared at his doorway and glanced at the small conference room next to Ranger's office. We walked in and were joined by Les and Bobby. When I leaned forward to push my chair under the table, I felt my muscles pull and wondered why I was so sore. Then I remembered a couple of the positions we'd tried out last night and figured it was probably a miracle I was even walking this morning. Maybe I should look into yoga after all.

Ranger saw my brief recognition of pain and looked at Bobby. "Get Steph some Ibuprofen and a bottle of water."

Bobby stood up, despite having just sat down, and asked, "Is there something I need to check?" He obviously was assuming I had been my usual clumsy self and gotten hurt.

The corner of Ranger's mouth tipped up before his blank face reappeared, and he shook his head no, sending Bobby off to grab some meds for me. While he was gone, Tank pushed another plain white envelope to Ranger as we all leaned forward to see what was inside.

Bobby returned with three tablets and a bottle of water. Despite not wanting any medication, I knew this was just Advil and would probably make a difference without doing any harm, so I took them without complaint and moved the water to the side so that I wouldn't mess anything up when Ranger pulled the contact from the stalker out.

The note was typed again in the same formatting as the previous, and said only: _Remember, you brought this on yourself when you chose to ignore me. We could have been perfect together._

He put his hand back in the envelope and pulled out a small, check size envelope and several pictures. He passed the photos around. Two were taken of us kissing yesterday morning at the bonds office, and the third was a close up of me taken as we were entering RangeMan from the roof after our chat. I had turned back after feeling that we were being watched, and the photo had been snapped then. It had a green tint to it from a night vision camera, which said whoever was doing this had some sophisticated toys to play with. An X had been drawn in over my face. Ranger had gripped that one so hard, a crease formed in the paper the picture was printed on. I put my hand over his to help him relax and eased it from his grasp to pass around.

The small envelope was the last thing he opened. He glanced in, and then shut the top and looked away.

"What is it?" I wondered aloud. He seemed to be upset about it, and I wondered what was in there that was worse than a direct death threat to me like the photo was.

My question caused him to pull the envelope closer to him as he swiveled his chair to face me. "I'm so sorry, Stephanie."

Hearing my whole name sent a shiver up my spine, but not in a good way.

"You're scaring me, Ric," I said, forgetting we were in a room with other people and he might not want me to use his name in front of the guys.

I watched an emotion fly across his face at the mention of his name, and he reluctantly held out the envelope for me to take it.

I had a feeling whatever was in there I wasn't going to like, but it was so small and felt empty in my hand, so I began to wonder how bad it could be. When I opened it up and peeked inside, I got my answer. There was a scattering of tan and white hair inside that I knew in my gut belonged to Rex. Whoever was stalking Ranger had broken into my apartment, stolen my hamster, and hurt him in order to punish us for being together. Now they had the gumption to send me hair from my pet to gloat that they had hurt a defenseless animal

I closed the envelope with an intentional slowness, set it on the table, and then pushed it back to Ranger with my fingertips. He took it from me, but before he could say anything, I stood up and announced I'd be at my desk whenever he was ready to go to Vinnie's. I assumed the plan was still for us to put in some public appearances, but I needed a little time alone before I was ready to face anybody.

I had only been at my desk for a few seconds, before I felt the presence of someone else. I turned around to tell whoever it was to go away, but when I saw it was Scar, I didn't have the heart to be mean, so I just spun back to face my computer. I was completely lost, feeling as though it was all my fault that Rex had been hurt by whoever it was fixating on Ranger. When I'd left my apartment, I'd had no idea what was going to happen, or I would have brought him with me. I had always worried that one day, I would piss off the wrong person and they would try to hurt someone in my family, but I never considered my job bringing about Rex's ultimate demise.

I knew that wallowing in guilt wasn't doing anything to bring Rex back, and then I had a new thought. It was just an envelope full of hair. It was possible the stalker was just taunting me and hadn't killed him – that they'd just given him a bit of a hair cut. If I could help to figure out who it was sending these annoying threats, then there might be a chance he was still alive and in need of some touch up work on his fur to keep him from looking funny as the only hamster with a bald spot.

I shook my head to clear it, refusing to give up on my little guy, and realized that when my eyes focused, the computer was on and the primary search programs I used were open. I glanced over at Scar, and he held out the list of employees from the manufacturing company I'd been reviewing yesterday.

"It helps," he advised.

There might have been a time that I'd have taken offense at his pushy approach, but coming from him, I knew he was trying to help in the only way he knew how, so I smiled at him and started running surface checks into the two men that had records from the employee listing. After an hour of being humped over the keyboard, I lifted my arms and stretched them over my head, feeling the tension in my shoulders that had returned, despite the heavenly massage from Ranger last night.

I dropped my hands and turned to see Scar reading out the information I'd printed. He glanced up at me and waited for me to speak.

"Do you know anything about yoga?"

He grinned and nodded yes.

"Do you know enough to gently teach me?" I pushed a little more.

"My sister was a yoga instructor. I've done it on and off when I've been injured or using my body in ways that aren't typical for my standard workout. It's a great way to build up flexibility and muscle strength without bulk," he replied, in what was probably the longest speech I'd heard from him yet.

"Would you show me?" I asked, wondering if I might be crossing the line with a guy I hardly knew at all.

He looked at me for a brief moment, like he was using some kind of mind reading skills to question why I was asking for his help. In the end, he nodded yes and said only, "Tomorrow, 0700."

I turned back to the monitor in front of me and replied, "Thank you."

It was nearing lunch when Ranger appeared at my cubicle and interrupted our work. He was impressed with the progress we'd made and wanted to pass along the background checks I'd run on the employees of the corporations, as well as the individuals who had the access to see the roof of RangeMan.

"How about some lunch at Pino's?" he offered, as an alternative to another trip to the bonds office.

I was all for taking a break from my desk chair, and I really didn't feel like another run in with Lula. I figured even with the sobering delivery from this morning, I was still probably sporting a glow bright enough for her to pick up on it and start questioning us again.

I stood up and realized I didn't have my purse with me, so I told Ranger I'd meet him in the garage after running upstairs to grab it. I figured by the time I got back downstairs, he'd have the car angled so that no one could see me step off the elevator and the guys would have the back booth at Pino's cleared so we'd have the safest spot in the restaurant all to ourselves.

I picked up my purse from the closet where I'd left it last night, and as an afterthought, I checked the .38 in it and saw it was fully loaded. I guess Ranger had helped himself to my gun and done that, because I was pretty sure it only had a single bullet in it the last time I looked. I was about to get upset about it, but I looked at the newly made up bed and couldn't find any anger inside me. I decided instead to try something different. I went back into the recesses of the closet and started digging around in one of the bags Hal had brought for me. I found a collection of various holsters that I'd purchased or been given, in the hope of finding one that I'd be comfortable enough with to actually use.

I found a thigh holster that I'd bought, thinking it would make a sexy addition to a Halloween costume, and quickly took off my jeans, finding a long straight denim skirt to wear instead. I slipped on the holster and positioned it in the right spot so that if I was careful, I could use the split on the front of the skit and the need to hike it up in order to climb in and out of the car to my advantage in teasing Ranger. If he wanted me to have my gun on me, then I was going to make sure it was brought to his attention that I'd received the message.

I made my way to the elevator, wondering what it was about this apartment that gave me such a feeling of empowerment. I never would have thought of teasing Ranger at my place. After thinking it through, I decided it wasn't really the location; it was the man himself that was helping me to get in touch with my stronger side.

I didn't want to fall into the trap of wishing we'd opened up to each other sooner, because that rabbit hole had no bottom to it. When I saw my reflection in the steel doors that closed in front of me, I stretched my leg forward and loved the way I could just barely make out the bulge of the gun through the skirt. When I moved, a little more the black of the holster showed. When the ding announced I was in the garage, I straightened up and stepped out, hoping my plan to continue teasing Ranger didn't backfire on me.


	11. Favors and Debts

_Thanks to JE for giving us the wonderful world of Plum that I am shamelessly using below._

_Jenny (JenRar) I can't thank you enough for helping me as the beta of this story and for saving the readers from my endless number of run-on sentences._

**Chapter 11 – Favors and Debts**

_Ranger's POV_

I was distracted on the drive over to Pino's. Steph was quiet, which in my experience, was not a good thing, but I didn't know what to say to break the silence in the car. I was still struggling with the pang of jealousy I'd felt when I'd gone to ask Steph about lunch and she was working so well with Scar. I'd brought him in because of his ability to protect his mark at all cost and how he has been able to do it in a stealth way historically, despite the unforgettable mark on his face. I'd never expected the two to become friends, but I should have known Stephanie wouldn't allow someone to be around her without breaking down their barriers and bringing them into her world.

When we got to the restaurant, I pulled up to the entrance and got out to open her door.

She slid out and asked, "You aren't leaving your Porsche here, are you?"

"No, Babe," I assured her. "Cal is going to park it and stay in the car to insure no one messes with it while we were eating."

She relaxed with that answer. I quickly put my body against the back of hers to shield her from the open area behind us and reached my hand out to indicate we needed to move into the restaurant. It was still busy, despite being after the lunch rush. Luckily, I had sent Bobby and Lester ahead to get the booth at the back of the restaurant secured, so I knew we'd have a place, no matter how busy it might be.

I put my hand on the small of her back and moved her toward the booth waiting for us.

Lester and Bobby stood up to leave, but Steph stopped them. "You guys are going to join us for lunch, right?"

I gave them both a look that clearly told them to get lost, but when I glanced at Stephanie, she was giving them one just as earnestly that implored them to stay.

Les must have decided her wants were more important than mine, because he smiled and said, "Sure thing, Beautiful. Any time you want my company, all you have to do is ask."

And just like that, my chance to have a quiet meal with Steph was taken away. I had her sit on the inside of the booth beside me, and hid a smile when she only scooted in far enough for me to sit beside her, leaving us sitting very closely, with a good deal of room on the other side of her. My ego appreciated the fact that she wanted to be near me, so I lifted an arm to put it around her shoulder, drawing her to my side.

"Well, aren't you two the picture of a happy couple," Lester ventured to say.

Stephanie put her face down, as though she actually needed to look at the menu to know what she wanted. Most people would have taken the hint, but Lester had never been 'most people.'

"You know, Bobby, based on this and the way things looked the other night at Rosinni's, I'd say these two are become real love birds, not the mocking birds this assignment was supposed to produce," he taunted.

"Santos," I warned, giving him a look that would have shut up most men. I assumed he was immune to my glare, since he knew at this point, I was definitely calling him to the mats, so he figured he may as well make it worth his time.

"I don't remember the last time you were sporting this bright of a glow. Normally, I'd ask if you were just well rested, but there's a little color under your eyes, so I'm thinking you haven't been sleeping. Care to tell us what's keeping you up and making you look so incredible at the same time?"

He'd pushed too far that time, but before I could put him in his place, Stephanie looked up and said, "I was assuming you would have a similar glow after the sure thing it looked like you were out with at Rossini's, but you look amazingly well rested." She grinned a little and leaned forward to ask, "What's the matter, Les? Have trouble closing the deal?"

That was the last thing I'd expected to come out of Stephanie's mouth, and I couldn't stop myself from laughing out loud. Bobby was banging his fist on the table and bending over at the waist to try and contain his hysterics. Les had half a smile on his face. He may not have appreciated the jab to his manhood, but he loved verbally sparring, so I knew he wasn't likely to let this go.

"Ouch, Beautiful. That hurts. That you would think I couldn't close the deal is low. You saw her... You know good and well if I'd wanted it, I could've had it," he clarified to clear his good name. Then he went on. "The problem is, because the two of you were in no hurry to eat and get out, I had to sit there and pretend to be interested in her as she rambled on and on about nothing. By the time we left, I was so tired of hearing her voice, I didn't even want to hear it calling out my name. I took her straight home."

This time, it was Stephanie's turn to laugh hard, and I leaned back to take in how beautiful her face was lit up this way. She picked up her napkin from her lap and blotted at her eyes, and from the corner of my eye, I saw something black on her right thigh showing through the split on the side of the skirt. Despite the fact that the three of them continued to talk, I couldn't force myself to pay attention. All I could do was stare at that strip of black, wondering what in the hell it was.

When the waitress brought our food, I pulled my arm away from her to cut up my salad. Once I set my knife down, I decided to slip my hand under the table and find out what that was that my mind was so focused on. Bobby was telling Steph about his date, and I blocked that out as my hand settled about two inches above her knee. She didn't change at all to give away what was going on under the table as I slowly moved my hand up until it hit the band that had my curiosity peeked.

As I began to move around the article inside her skirt, I glanced over and saw her eyes get larger, and then settle back down to their normal expression. Encouraged that she wasn't stopping me, I continued to move to her outer thigh, until I hit the unmistakable shape of her .38. Without being able to stop it, I sat back and moaned at the idea of Steph strapping on a gun in such an intimate place and changing into a sexy skirt to show it off to me.

Unfortunately, I'd been so lost in my own little world that I forgot who we were eating with, until Lester said, "Ah, Cuz, I think Steph is beginning to rub off on you, if you're moaning over your lunch."

Thank God for my darker skin tone so I didn't have to worry about blushing. It had been years since I'd been so lost in a sensation that I lost all sense of what was around me like that.

I looked at Stephanie, who was smiling and looking down at my hand, which was still stroking the side of her thigh. Her face was beaming equal parts embarrassment and perhaps interest.

I leaned so that my chin was almost on her shoulder and whispered, "Babe, did you wear this for me?"

Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth, and she nodded yes. My hand instinctually tightened around her thigh in approval of the choice. I hadn't realized what a tease she could be, but I loved the challenge of trying to keep up with her.

"When we get back to the office, I think you need to let me examine this holster to be sure it's up to RangeMan code for security and effectiveness," I teased.

She turned her mouth toward me and slowly looked down in the direction of my crotch, before replying, "I think it was pretty effective, but I'll be glad to let you check it out anyway."

I jerked my head away and caught the waitress' eye to ask for the check. Bobby and Lester were each sporting shit eating grins, which normally would have pissed me off, but at the moment, I didn't care. I knew they were happy to see Steph and me together, and for once, I didn't feel the need to explain or cover up what was going on between us.

I pulled out enough money to cover everyone's lunch and leave a hefty tip, as well, and then turned back to see if she was ready for that uniform inspection. I turned just in time to see her face go from joy to concern. Walking toward our table, with her eyes honed in on Stephanie, was Terri Gilman. She was in a feminine business suit, and the way she was carrying herself gave me the impression she was here to deliver a message from her uncle. I had never known Terri to be anything other than a messenger, but I reflexively put my arm around Stephanie and moved my right hand to rest near my holster; an act not lost on Lester or Bobby. When Terri was five steps from our table, the door opened, and I noticed Hector and Scar walk in, following her path. It was nice to know they were keeping tabs on us, since I'd definitely let my guard down during lunch.

Terri didn't waste any time in cutting to the chase. "My uncle would like to talk to you. He asked me to find out when you might be available." She wasn't being overly rude, but she was definitely only here because she was being forced to be.

Stephanie glanced at me, and I tightened my hold on her to let her know I was supporting her, but I wasn't going to step in and take over the conversation unless she needed me to. I knew she'd had enough controlling men in her life already.

"I can give you my cell phone number, and he can call me anytime," Stephanie responded.

"No," Terri replied. "He wanted to meet with you face to face. Uncle Vito doesn't like telephone conversations."

"Oh, well, in that case, I'm at RangeMan most of the time, so can he come see me there?" she said in a questioning tone, smartly trying to avoid meeting with a known mob boss on his home turf.

"I'm assuming this would be acceptable to you, Mr. Manoso?" She looked at me, not letting Stephanie's evasions keep her from doing her uncle's bidding.

"I'll let the front desk know to expect him," I said by way of answering her question.

"He'll stop by this afternoon before six o'clock. I don't expect it will take very long," she finished, before turning and walking back out.

"What was that all about?" Bobby asked, looking at me as though I knew.

Stephanie spoke up instead, saving me from having to manufacture a reason. "According to Connie, Vito isn't happy that Joe and I broke up. He wants to make me a deal I can't refuse, to reconcile."

Lester looked between us several times, before finally asking, "_Is_ there an offer that you wouldn't refuse?"

"There isn't a damn thing he could offer that would make me go back to Joe," she replied with a ring of finality.

I couldn't help but notice I let out a long breath at her confession. I wondered how long I'd have to be around her before I stopped getting nervous about the pull between she and Joe because of their past.

"Then I guess we need to go straighten up one of the conference rooms, don't we?" Lester asked, looking directly at me.

I knew by 'straighten up,' he meant insure we had all the audio and video devices in the proper positions to cleanly record whatever was going to transpire during their meeting.

I nodded, and we moved out to where Cal had brought the car to the door. We made it back to RangeMan easily, but as soon as we walked out of the elevator, Tank was standing there with an envelope that I knew was going to piss me off.

Steph must have noticed, as she didn't stop at her cubicle, going straight into the conference room instead. We all sat down, and without a word being said, Tank handed me the envelope and I opened it.

The note was the basic one I'd come to expect: _The next shot won't come from my camera._

Inside were three snap shots from our night at Rosinni's. One was of us seated at our table; another was of our entrance to the restaurant that also showed Zip looking at Stephanie, reminding me I still needed to call him out for that. The final one was when we returned to Haywood, just as the elevator doors were closing, before we went up to the roof. Each picture had a red dot either on Stephanie's chest, or directly in the center of her forehead.

"Who wants to tell me why we haven't found this guy yet? We've had teams spread out every time we've out in public, and yet, no one has seen a thing, and pictures and threats continue to pour in. You realize they could have easily gotten a shot off?" I was working hard to contain my anger and feeling like the lid was barely on.

The guys talked about various places where the photo from inside the restaurant would need to be taken, and even mentioned the likely possibility that it was more than one person because of the timing of the snapshots. To be in position for our arrival, meal, and entrance to Haywood would require perfect accuracy, or more than one person working together to keep the time line accurate.

"Maybe not," Steph spoke up, studying the photos closely. "If they were outside when we came in, they would have had a while to move, because this picture from inside the restaurant was taken right after our dessert was delivered. We were eating for a long time, so the timeline is stretched out. Dessert took a long time, too, so they may have gotten their picture and come straight back here on the likelihood that we'd return directly, as well, to get the third snapshot. I think it's just one person."

"Other than the extended time between photos, what makes you think it's all one person?" I asked, glad to know at least one person in this room was capable of picking up on subtle clues at the moment. Otherwise, we'd have nothing to go off of.

"Well, it looks like she's waiting for you to smile before snapping the shot. You don't tend to smile a lot, so for all three of these to have that expression on your face means they are focusing on you. Only somebody who is really obsessed would risk being discovered and wait for your expression to be one they'd like. If you take me out of them, each of these pictures captures you beautifully," she explained, making a lot of sense.

I took the photos from her and remembered as we'd walked in, I had smiled when I'd decided to stick Zip on monitors. I think I'd smiled more during the meal than I could recall in recent history, and in the elevator, she'd sighed this contented sound as the doors began to close, and I remembered thinking how much I loved her sounds and how they were almost as communicative as her facial expressions in knowing what she was thinking.

Before we could get any further, Hal knocked on the conference room door and announced that Vito was downstairs at the front desk with two of his men, stating he had an appointment with Ms. Plum.

With no hesitation, Stephanie stood, and then turned back to look at me. "Do you have time to come with me?" She seemed completely unsure of herself in that moment, and I hated that she had any doubt.

"Nowhere else I want to be," I assured her, getting up and following her out.

Lester called out, "That's right, Stephanie. Ric only wants to be with you." He winked as he said it.

My first instinct to take a step around the table and knock that damned smirk off his face, but my irritation quickly gave way to understanding. Lester saw how nervous Steph was, and you don't need to walk into a meeting with a man like Vito with any kind of jitters. Using my first name as Stephanie had earlier brought a smile to her face. My cousin was a lot of things, but a fool wasn't really one of them. I subtly nodded at him, and he lifted his chin in Steph's direction. We didn't need words. I'd thanked him, and he'd told me he did it for Stephanie – enough said.

When we walked in the conference room behind the front desk, Vito was seated at the head of the table with his back to the wall and his two men standing behind him, still wearing their sunglasses. I sat with my back to the door in the most vulnerable seat in the room to show that their display of power didn't rattle me in the least. Stephanie sat to my right and seemed to be holding her head up high.

"Ms. Plum, I appreciate your willingness to meet with me, as I've been most interested in speaking with you," Vito began, without waiting for either of us to speak.

Steph surprised me by meeting his authority with some of her own. "Based upon you sending Terri into a public place to set the meeting and the mumblings I've been hearing about you having an offer I need to hear, I figured it was in my best interest to not put this off."

He inclined his head slightly and leaned forward. "I do have an offer I'd like to make to you, but first, I wanted to ask if you and Mr. Manoso are officially dating."

"I don't believe that it is any of your business," she quickly responded, matching his posture by leaning forward herself.

"Ah, but Ms. Plum, it is my business, as it has a great deal to do with what I want to talk to you about," he said confidently, trying to intimidate her.

"Let me try to save us both some time," Stephanie said, cutting to the chase. "I understand you want me to reconcile with Joseph Morelli in order to keep him off the market so that your niece can't date him."

Vito didn't confirm her thoughts, but his silence was the same as a vocal agreement.

"I can assure you, that isn't going to happen."

"Aren't you even interested in what I might be able to offer you to change your mind?" he pushed arrogantly.

Stephanie nearly laughed at his suggestion. "I have no interest at all."

"Ms. Plum..." He tried changing his tactics. "I understand that you've recently had a break in to your apartment. Perhaps if you had the protection of a Family, you wouldn't have to worry about your safety."

"While I appreciate your concern for my safety, I think I have more than enough protection through RangeMan to take care of myself," she said, quickly cutting him off and making me so proud of her.

"There are also financial considerations," he said, weakly shifting again.

She lifted her hand with her palm toward him and interrupted once more. "I don't need or want your money. If you paid me to be in a relationship, that would make me the equivalent of a whore, and let me assure you that despite my many faults, getting paid to have sex with men will never be one of them."

"Then maybe I need to change my approach," he said, his demeanor softening. "I want my niece as far away from the Morelli family as possible. It complicates things for anyone in my employment to have a public relationship with a law enforcement official, but more than that, I don't trust him to not hurt her. I think of Terri like a daughter, and the idea that a man would hurt her in some way makes me want to do whatever is necessary to eliminate the possibility of that threat."

Stephanie was quiet for a few moments, and then spoke up. "Is there any way you can have Terri come here and meet with me?"

"I can arrange for a meeting between the two of you, but I do not see the point. I have already spoken with her, and words are not getting through," he admitted, irritating me that he hadn't heard all Steph wanted to say.

"Then you must not know the right words. I can promise you that after talking to me, Terri will no longer want to go out with Joe," she stated as fact.

I wondered what she had up her sleeve to produce such confidence and if it had anything to do with why she claimed they'd never reconcile.

"If you can produce such a result, I would consider myself in your debt and would gladly allow you to call upon me for a favor at anytime," he offered, obviously serious about keeping Joe away from his niece.

Stephanie considered his words for a moment, and then showed her great wisdom by responding, "I appreciate the offer, but I will do it as favor from one woman to another. You won't owe me a thing."

Vito smiled at her words and stood up, before saying, "Thank you for the time you made in your schedule to meet with me. I'll have Terri stop by to meet with you, and if you are successful, then I insist that you remember I am in your debt. There may come a time when you need someone with a set of skills like mine."

"Thank you," she answered, instead of arguing.

After shaking hands, Vito nodded at me on the way out and said, "I'm glad Ms. Plum has moved on. I believe the two of you will be very happy together."

I thanked Vito for his compliment and held the door open for them to leave. Once they exited, I shut the door and stood to the side so that Stephanie would see me lock the door. Then I took my keys from my pocket and pointed them at the camera, scrambling the feed until I reset the connection.

She took a step backward, as though being forced into a cage with a wild animal, unable to tell what was about to happen.

"Proud of you, Babe," I told her as an explanation for my actions.

She stopped retreating and took a step toward me instead. That one move sent an effect straight between my legs. Damn, when she was confident and assertive, it completely undid me.

"I'm pretty proud of me, too," she admitted, glancing at the conference room table, before looking back up at me.

"I've scrambled the cameras and the microphones, but you're going to have to be quiet so the guys at the front desk don't hear you," I threatened her.

She took a deep breath, and when my hands touched her shoulder, I felt a shiver run through her body.

"Can you do that?" I pushed a little more, enjoying the effect I was having on her.

"I can try," she started, and then smiled. "But I think you may need to make me, just to be on the safe side."

"How do you suggest I do that?" I asked, wanting to rise to the challenge, but also recognizing Stephanie was one of the most vocal women I'd ever met.

She took another step to press her chest against mine. "Oh, come on, Ric. You can't come up with something to put in my mouth to keep me quiet?" she challenged, draining all the blood from my brain to pool in other areas.

I instantly pressed my lips to hers. I had plenty of things to put in her mouth to keep her quiet, and being challenged like that was all I needed to call her bluff. When I pulled back, I gave her a second to focus again, before saying, "Open wide, Babe. I've got just the thing for that sweet little mouth."


	12. Shhh! The Reward for Being Quiet

_JE created the characters I have stolen for my own amusement below._

_Thank you Jenny (JenRar) for your amazing work as the beta on this chapter. You have not only saved the day when I needed help, but you've saved the readers from a lot of silly mistakes as well._

**Chapter 12 – Shhh! The Reward for Being Quiet**

_Stephanie's POV_

"Open wide, Babe. I've got just the thing for that sweet little mouth," Ranger said, before covering my mouth with his once more.

I didn't know where I was getting this shit from. I wasn't a very assertive person in the bedroom, and all of a sudden, around Ranger, I'm starting to sound like a dominatrix ordering him around.

I was distracted by the way his tongue was moving in my mouth, caressing mine, and then moving away before returning to invade my senses once more. I knew his hands were not on me and were doing something lower, but when I felt his hands at his waist, I assumed he was taking off his pants and he was about to ask me to put my mouth on him to keep me quiet. The thought of it had me excited because, I loved the way it felt last night when I was in complete control of what he felt and when he felt it. I wondered if I could make him out of his mind enough to make him unable to keep standing.

Before I could get any further with that thought, Ranger's hands moved under my arms, and he lifted me just enough for me to sit on the edge of the conference room table. I let out a little squeal from the unexpected motion, but I thought it was quiet enough to go unnoticed outside of the room.

Ranger moved his head from side to side, as though disagreeing with me. "Babe, if you're already having trouble staying quiet, then I think we're going to have to go with plan B."

"What's plan B?" I asked, a little breathless.

He gave me a smile that made goose bumps break out on my arms. Then he lifted his right hand, and I noticed his belt was in it. In his left was a plain white handkerchief. I trusted Ranger completely, but I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to try out the whole spanking fetish in the conference room. I wanted to celebrate, and being smacked with leather wasn't exactly what I had in mind.

Ranger must have noticed the look on my face, because he quickly spoke to reassure me. "You know you can trust me, right?"

I nodded yes, despite my fears about what he was going to do. I knew in those places so deep inside of me they had no name that I trusted the man in front of me with all that I am. He smiled at my quick confirmation, and then proceeded to find the middle of his belt and wrap the white cotton around the leather. I was at a loss about what he was doing, so I continued to watch and wait.

"Open that mouth, Babe," he commanded when he finished tying the handkerchief to the belt and held it in front of my face.

Understanding hit me then that he just constructed a make-shift gag to keep me quiet. It wasn't exactly what I'd hoped he would put in my mouth, but I'd never been forced to be quiet before, and I wondered if it would change the way the experience felt.

Obediently, I opened my mouth.

He squeezed the outside edges together to make it thinner, and positioned the belt between my front teeth, before saying, "Bite down."

I relaxed my jaw, surprised that the foreign object fit. I wouldn't call it comfortable, but I didn't feel the need to pull it out either.

He held the two ends, circling them behind my head, and then instructed me to lie back so that they were held in place between my head and the table. My hands and legs were free, yet having my ability to talk removed made me feel very vulnerable.

As if he understood, he leaned down to look in my eyes and said, "Just put your hands on mine and stop me if this gets to be too much."

I nodded that I understood, and the look on his face shifted from the tender concern that I was okay with what was happening, to something a lot more passionate and heated. I had a feeling the teasing I'd been doing over the last few days was about to be turned back on me. I know he liked to threaten that payback was a bitch, and I guess I was about to see how he defined that.

I laid back on the conference room table, trying to focus on anything other than the fact that Ranger wasn't touching me. The air conditioning was running, and I could hear the air being forced through the vent in the corner. The ceiling tiles had texture to them, and in the square directly over my head, I found the pattern of a bunny. Somehow, the idea of RangeMan decorating with small bunnies was funny. I grinned, reminding me I had a gag in my mouth.

Just before my frustration got the better of me, I felt my shirt being lifted, and I looked down to see Ranger methodically unbuttoning it from the bottom up to the top. When he was done, he smiled his appreciation, before unclasping my bra with just two of his talented fingers. Thank God for Victoria Secret's front clasping underwear.

"Remember, Babe," he said, barely above a whisper. "You have to be quiet."

I nodded that I remembered. Honestly, the thick piece of leather in my mouth was enough to drive home that point. I should have known that there was a reason he was warning me. Before I could let out the deep breath I'd taken, he moved to pull my right nipple into his mouth, using deep, long suckles to cause waves of tingles to run through my chest and straight down between my legs. Somehow, he was lavishing my breasts with attention, while keeping his body off of mine. I needed to feel that pressure of him between my legs, and tried to lift my hips to make that clear.

He wasn't going to allow me to lead right now, and when my hips came off the table, he put his forearm across my pelvis and bore down. "Last night, you took your sweet time and nearly drove me insane," he spoke deeply right against my ear. After a nibble against my neck, he continued, "I've warned you about playing with fire."

My mind was screaming, "Then burn me now, damn it!" but I continued to stay silent, hoping my good behavior would be rewarded.

I relaxed the muscles in my lower body, and he lifted his arm, pleased that I was playing along. Ranger pulled down once more and picked up where he left off with his torture of pleasure, by alternating between flicking a nipple with his tongue, and then grabbing it softly between his teeth to pull. Just as an element of pain began to slip in, he would let go and lick over the tender tissue, driving me crazy. He switched from side to side, using his hand on whichever breast was currently being ignored by his mouth.

I tried to clear my mind of anything other than what he was doing, and when I shut my eyes, it just made the sensation that much more powerful. I didn't think I could stand much more of this.

I wondered if I had somehow said that aloud, as he straightened up again and looked down at me. My eyes opened and met his gaze; seeing the look on his face made me wonder what he was thinking about. He was relaxed, there were no lines around his eyes or mouth, yet his expression was intense. Whatever he was feeling, it was strong.

Before I begin to speculate about what might be running through his head, his lips turned up, and I recognized that face as the one that meant I was about to get tormented once more.

He ran his hands down to my ankles and slowly moved them up under my skirt, pausing to run his fingers around the holster at my thigh. Not satisfied with the obstructed view, he pushed my skirt higher so that it bunched up around my waist. I was briefly afraid that the gun was going to sidetrack him and he was going to forget all about the state he had worked me into, but when his eyes shifted and landed on the panties that I thought perfectly matched the holster, his fingers moved to trace the scrap of lace covering me.

He pulled down my panties slowly, not allowing them to turn inside out, and eased them off of me. He set the black material on the table next to my head and spread them out, as though putting them on display. Then he pulled up a rolling chair, and I swallowed involuntarily at the idea that he must be planning on staying down there a while, if he felt the need to get comfortable.

He spent an ungodly amount of time running the calloused tips of his fingers along the juncture of my legs and hips. He would alternate the pressure so that some passes would tickle, while others would leave me wishing he'd move just another inch to the left or right.

I was struggling to keep still since he'd been so clear that was what he expected of me, but when he made the sudden move of filling me with two fingers with no warning, my muscles clamped down and my hips shot up from the wooden table once more.

He pulled them back out and paused, causing a whimper to escape from my lips. I could hear him chuckle, before he asked, "Do you need something from me, Babe?"

Hell, yes, I needed something from him, and if he'd get this damn belt out of my mouth, I'd tell him exactly what that is. As it was, I had to just nod yes as emphatically as I could. He stood up, but was far enough away I couldn't see what his hands were doing.

I tried taking a series of deep breaths to try and remain calm, but I was worked up into a state and knew only one thing was going to help me now. Fortunately, Ranger understood this and grabbed my hips forcefully to pull me so that my ass was on the edge, about to fall off the table. He pulled my legs to wrap around his hips, and then pressed himself just at my opening. He was exactly where I wanted him, but frozen, as though debating what he should do next.

I made what I hoped what a sound of encouragement to make him slide into where I needed him to be. But instead of moving like I wanted him to, he decided to get chatty.

"God, Babe, do you have any idea how sexy you are? Spread out on the conference room table, open for me to feast on, eager for whatever I want to do to you. I'm sorry I pushed you away for so long."

His body lost some of the intensity, and I knew he was focusing on the past and the time we'd both lost trying to play the game of denying what we really wanted from each other. I didn't want him to go down that road. For one, I knew no good could come from focusing on the regrets of the past, but more importantly, I knew it was getting me further away from the orgasm my body was still screaming for.

I couldn't say anything to talk him out of this useless line of thinking, but I needed to get his attention on something else, and quick. Remembering that I still had the use of my hands, I moved them both to rest on my lower stomach. Ranger focused on what I was doing, uncertain if I was going to push him away or try to pull him closer, I decided neither option would get his mind back in the place I needed it to be, so I slowly moved my hands up my ribs, trailing my fingertips softly on my skin until I reached my breasts.

His eyes cut between looking into my eyes, trying to see what I was thinking, and moving back focus on my hands, because he definitely didn't want to miss what they were doing. I circled my nipples with my fingers, mirroring the movements on both sides. When I palmed my breasts and used my thumb and forefinger to pinch and twist my painfully hard nipples, his body began to tighten up once more. His eyes didn't move from my chest again. I decided to up the pressure a little more and lifted my chin, pulling my head back and moaning softly.

His erection moved from my opening up to my clit, and circled the nerves there with just enough pressure to relight the fire between my legs. He was spreading the moisture around and covering himself in it. I had gotten him back where I wanted him, but he still didn't seem to understand that the time for teasing was over, and I needed him in me – now!

Clearly, I needed to be a little more direct, so I stopped toying with my own breasts, lowered my hands back down my torso, across my hips, and allowed them to meet between my legs. I felt like I had somehow regained the power, when his lower lip went between his teeth and I noticed the slightest hint of sweat breaking out across his brow. I upped the ante once more by using my left hand to pull open my lips and letting my right hand glide between them, using the natural lube Ranger had spread there. I pressed my fingers against my clit, rubbing in little circles, and this time, it was Ranger that moaned. I would have loved the ability to ask if he was the one that needed a gag, but since that wasn't possible, I shut my eyes and continued what I was doing, hoping it was driving him crazy enough to move.

Sure enough, after less than a minute of my self torture, Ranger's hips pulled away, making my eyes fly open, unsure as to how my plan had gone so wrong. Before I could get a clue, he thrust forward, sheathing himself in me in one swift, hard stroke. With that single move, I lost the ability to focus on anything, and I shut my eyes, once more content to just hang on while his body moved with mine. I couldn't stop the series of soft noises coming from me. My legs tightened around him, probably making it difficult for him to move, but he never complained, and magically found a way to hit that spot inside of me that short-circuited my optic nerve so that little lights were beginning to dance behind my eyelids. I stopped playing with my clit and put my hands on top of his in an attempt to hold onto something real, so I didn't get lost in the overwhelming sensation.

I'd been taken hard and fast before. Joe always made sure I came, but slow and sensual wasn't exactly his trademark, either. Never when I was being powerfully taken did I feel it was as erotic as it was in this moment. With Ranger, just because the movements were more forceful, it didn't lessen the emotion behind them. I could feel the love pouring from him with each stroke.

Just as I thought I might black out, I felt him slow down and push himself farther in, temporarily taking away my breath. It was at the exact moment that my body exploded, making every muscle lock down and my breath temporarily stop, that I heard Ranger scream out my name, "Stephanie!" He rarely said my name, and on the occasions when he did, it was typically a shortened version, but hearing him roar like that just intensified the pleasure pouring over me.

I couldn't move – hell, I could barely remember to keep drawing breath – and as the waves continued to wash over me, I realized I'd never had an orgasm last like this and wondered if it would ever stop. A single tear escaped from my tightly closed eyes, and I wondered why I would cry at a moment like this. That was the last thought I had before the darkness took over and I lost my tenuous grip on consciousness.

When I came to, I was being cradled in Ranger's lap. My skirt was back down, and my bra and shirt had been returned to their correct places, as well. If it wasn't for the slight bit of residual tingling between my legs, I might have wondered if the whole thing had been a dream. I took a deep breath, before lifting my head to look into the eyes of a very smug looking Ranger.

"Welcome back," he said with a sexy smile.

"What happened?" I asked, happy to realize my mouth was now empty of its gag.

"Well, I was having a good time loving your body, when you decided to push me by loving your body at the same time. Dios, Babe, there's only so much a man can take without snapping, and I may have been a little too hard on you; when you came, you passed out," he explained, confirming my memories were true.

"I had to do something to keep you from pulling away from me again with regret over the time we were apart," I replied.

"So if I want a repeat, all I have to do is start to sound a little remorseful over my past stubbornness?" he teased.

He was enjoying this way too much, but I loved the light feeling between the two of us, so I didn't bother to disagree.

He stopped smiling and asked, "Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to be so rough."

I shook my head firmly. "Absolutely not. It was perfect. It was just…" How could I describe it?

"I know, Babe," he promised, letting me off the hook, since my mind hadn't completely booted up yet. "I know."

Still, I wanted to be sure he understood how different it was, so I tried once more. "It's never felt that intense before. I don't know if it was because I couldn't scream, so I had to keep all of bottled up, or just that we've been fighting this for so long that giving in now has a few years of pent up energy behind it."

"No," he interrupted my guesses. "It's just that I'm that good." We both laughed over his egotistical joke. "But next time, I think the belt may need to go in my mouth," he confessed a little softer.

I remembered the volume with which he yelled my name and turned beet red.

Ranger lifted my chin with a single finger and asked, "Hey, why are you embarrassed? I'm the one the guys at the front desk heard yelling. For all they know, you were sitting in the corner the whole time."

I gave him a look that should have made him understand how unlikely I believed that to be. "Right, and I'm sporting this just fucked glow and am barely able to walk from just sitting in the corner?"

He drew in a sudden breath at my words and replied, "Damn, I love it when things like that come out of your sweet mouth. And you're right; you are definitely sporting one hell of a sexy glow at the moment."

"Do you think we can stay here until it goes away a little?" I wondered aloud.

"How long will that take?" he asked.

I considered it for a minute and shrugged. "I can literally still feel you inside me, so I'm guessing I'll be a walking billboard for sex for a couple of days."

If anything, his smile only grew at that admission. "Good," he said, kissing me softly. "I want every man in this building to know that you aren't just my woman in name. I take care of what's mine, and I want you to look thoroughly taken care of."

"I think you've succeeded on that one," I sarcastically replied.

He got serious and pulled back marginally to press, "I mean it, Steph. I want them to know that we are really together. This isn't a game, or a fling, or some kind of physical only thing. This is for keeps. Every day, I feel you getting deeper and deeper inside me, and I know I won't be able to let you go after this."

Ranger wasn't one to dwell on emotions, but I could hear an edge to his voice that almost reminded me of panic. I framed his face with my hands to get his attention back on me and told him, "I know what you mean, and I'm so glad to hear you say it, because I wouldn't survive you letting me go."

We sealed the confession with a deep, slow kiss of understanding that we were in the same place and discussing it more wasn't necessary. I felt something vibrate against my hip and jumped, pulling us apart.

He reached back to pull his cell phone from the clip at his belt and answered, "Yo."

He listened for a minute, and his blank face returned. "No, we're coming up," he said, before shutting the phone to hang up.

"Let me guess. They've got something on the stalker?" I asked, resenting the interruption to our time.

He rubbed soothing circles on my back and nodded. "They've gone through the information you pulled and have some things to share."

I made a grumbling sound, but stood, knowing the sooner this creep was identified, the sooner we could live without the fear of being shot. I guess that was worth being interrupted.

We went up to five, holding hands. Somehow, after what we'd just shared, it didn't make sense to keep some forced professional distance in the office. We walked into the conference room, and I immediately sat down next to Scar, hoping my flushed face wouldn't be pointed out.

Ranger was talking to Tank at the door with his back to the table where the rest of us waited, until Lester took a temporary leave of his senses and said, "Hey, boss, why is your belt wet in the back and sporting teeth marks? Did somebody try to take a chunk out of your ass?"

Ranger spun around with a face that would have made most men cower in a corner, hugging themselves and rocking back and forth.

Lester looked away directly at me and grinned even bigger. "Whoa, Beautiful, look at you," he said appreciatively. "I guess we've answered the question about whose teeth were near his ass."

I heard Ranger say Lester's name, and I knew that an appointment on the mats was about to be announced, but before he could say anything else, a blur of movement occurred to my right, and the next thing I knew, Lester was on the floor, out cold.

I turned around to see Scar staring at Lester with an expression as cold as any I could imagine. Obviously, he didn't care for the way Les was teasing me. Bobby was slowly making his way over to Les, so I figured if he was this relaxed, there was nothing to worry about. I ignored the scene on the floor for a few minutes and turned to Scar, who was looking at the floor, but not really focused on it.

I stood up and put my hand on his arm, near his elbow. Scar looked up at me with an expression so sad, it made my chest ache. He appeared to be worried, like he thought I was going to reject him for his outburst. I decided to try a different tactic, and I stepped closer, stretched up on my tiptoes, and placed a quick kiss on his chin where the scar was most visible.

"Thank you," I told him simply.

When I pulled back, he had relaxed, and even though he was a little pink in the face, he seemed to be all right. I pointed to his chair, and he sat down beside me once more.

Then he leaned closer and said, "I didn't like the way he was talking to you."

I glanced back down at Les, who seemed to be coming around slowly on the floor. "I can see that," I answered with a smile. "But you can't go around knocking out everybody that picks on me," I warned him.

He shrugged. "Why not?"

I just shook my head. Somehow, I didn't think I'd be able to convince my self-appointed guardian that his response wasn't the right one. And seeing the smile on Ranger's face when Bobby finally got Lester off the floor, I realized he didn't want me to try.


	13. Having a Blast

_JE created the characters below._

_Jenny (JenRar) you are a tremendously talented beta. Thank you for helping me tame the chaos of my writing._

**Chapter 13 – Having a Blast**

_Ranger's POV_

After thirty minutes of listening to Tank sum up where we were, I couldn't help but notice that Steph had checked out. She was currently playing some game on a legal pad with Scar. They were trying to be discrete, but I could see the page was covered with little dots and they were taking turns connecting the dots trying to make squares. Scar's blank face was firmly in place, but every time she made a square, she would look up at him and smile and his rough expression would soften slightly.

In essence, after reviewing the searches Steph had run, the team had decided the companies with views of our roof were of no threat to us. Even the two employees with records that had skipped bond at some point had clear alibis for the time when the photos of us had been taken. Thomas Masters to our east had been in England for the last two weeks, so he was definitely not involved.

Emma Barnhardt was around, but a trip to her preferred bar showed that she had a major drinking problem, and in speaking to some of the regulars there, it was easy to figure out she wasn't capable of the stealth involved in stalking me.

The only possibility to pursue further was Alan Burrows, who appeared to be a ghost. No one had ever seen him, he had no job, no income – just money that appeared in his account from an untraceable bank that automatically paid for the penthouse apartment to our west. We all felt he was worth pursuing, but there wasn't much to go on to get us any further than what Stephanie had already dug up. That appeared to be a dead end, but we were still going to beef up security on the west side of the building, and I approved having Hector install a camera at the doorway of Alan's apartment to try and get an image of whoever was using that name.

Vince had finished his review of all my old skips, and there were only two remote possibilities – considering the others were either in prison, out of the country, or in prison in another country – but they seemed to check out, so my past work through RangeMan was bringing us nothing to pursue, either.

"It looks like we need to stick with the original plan of trying to draw this stalker out," Tank summarized. "Unless the surveillance footage from the building across the street gives us something, we are back to having to lure them into making a move that we can catch them at."

I nodded that he was right, even though I realized I was agreeing to put Steph into danger again. The longer this lasted, the more I grew uneasy about who we would eventually capture. Clearly this was no untrained psycho. My guess was we were dealing with, at a minimum, military training, and most likely some other specialty training, as well, to enable them to blend in so well that none of my men could spot them.

The guys were dismissed, and most stood up immediately out of habit, making Stephanie and Scar the only two still seated. I caught her eye and asked, "How would you feel about dinner out tonight?"

She smiled, and I loved the fact that she still seemed to have the look of a very satisfied woman. Her hair was bigger than usual and wasn't as controlled as she liked it. Everything about her was screaming for me to take her again, but I knew we had to get this stalker resolved so that I could insure a degree of safety for her, before I could let myself get distracted by sex every time I looked at her.

Her eyes lit up, and she asked, "Where?"

"Anywhere you want to go," I said before thinking it through.

"I had a sub for lunch, so how about pizza for dinner?" she suggested. "We could go to Shorty's."

I had to work to control my dread at her suggestion. "That stuff will kill you, Babe," I couldn't help but tease. I still couldn't figure out how she maintained her figure with all the junk she put in her body.

She must not have felt threatened, because she said, "You've got to go somehow. You may as well go with your stomach full of marinara and cheese."

"Plan?" Scar asked, clearly taking his role to stand by Steph no matter what very seriously.

"Same as Pino's," I responded, not seeing the reason to change something that wasn't broken.

"Why don't we drive separately?" Stephanie suggested, making me cringe. "I mean, couples don't go everywhere together. So I'll go and meet you there. We can have the big table at the back and have a lot of the guys there with us. It will be fun."

"I can't have you drive up alone and walk in unprotected," I said, not intending to be overly critical, but wanting to shoot down her plan. There were too many moving parts, and that would mean she would need her car. Just allowing her drive that piece of shit was putting her in danger.

"I'll ride with her and bring her in. You can show up alone right after us. The guys can already be there to secure the restaurant," Scar offered, probably trying to be helpful in giving Steph what she wanted, but he was blowing away all my valid reasons to keep her with me. Now I had no choice but to agree.

Steph knew me well enough to know I wasn't happy, so she pushed a little more. "Come on, Ric, It will be fun, and with enough of the guys at Shorty's, no one else will fit inside, so we'll have a blast."

I nodded that it was okay, but internally, I was hoping her word choice wouldn't turn out to be prophetic. When the terms "blast" and "Steph" were used in the same sentence, it usually meant a car needed to be replaced.

Having agreed to a plan, I left to alert the team of the plan for tonight and give them time together to do whatever sort of communication they did. I couldn't convince myself to admit that Scar and Stephanie were talking, because he was the most introverted guy I'd ever met.

Half an hour later, I was sitting in an SUV wiping my hands on my cargos to get rid of the dampness on my palms in the hope that this didn't come back to bite me on the ass as Lester had alluded in the conference room. Thinking of Scar knocking my cousin out with a single right hook made me smile. I knew Scar was one of those guys who kept everyone at a safe distance because he didn't like emotional attachments. He'd been hurt once in the past, and he wasn't going to allow himself to be put in that position ever again. I knew it was partly because he didn't want to suffer like he had years ago, but also because he recognized in himself that he tended to be a little over the top in protecting the people he cared about. The hit on Les proved he hadn't gained any more control than he'd had years ago.

My phone buzzed, and a new text showed that Steph and Scar had made it safely into Shorty's, where six of the guys had already secured the back of the restaurant. I drove straight over, arriving there six minutes later, and walked in slowly, giving the stalker ample opportunity to strike out at me if they wanted to. In some ways, I wished they would just take a shot so we'd have something to work with; maybe the unit stationed around the perimeter would get lucky enough to catch them directly.

I didn't feel a threat, and after making my steps as short and slow as possible, I was at the front door and knew I needed to go on in. When I entered, I was hit with a wall of laughter coming from the back. Sitting in the center of the chairs was Stephanie, with Scar on one side, and Lester, sporting a swollen jaw, on the other. The rest of the chairs were taken, and everyone was leaning in, listening to Lester tell about one of Steph's misadventures in bounty hunting. She was taking it well and had a smile on her face, but it wasn't reaching her eyes. She loved being around the guys when they were relaxed and having a good time, but nobody liked being laughed at, and this was crossing into that category, even if it was being done with good intensions.

When he finished his story, he was about to jump into another, when Scar spoke up, shocking the hell out of the guys. "I think that's enough, I want to hear about the distraction you did last month, Santos," he said, diverting the attention from Stephanie to Lester.

Everyone laughed when he had to tell about being sent into a gay bar to lead out a skip – a man that preferred his partners to be tall, tan, and male – using the techniques that were usually successful for Steph. The relief on her face was evident, and I walked up just as the story ended with Lester's ass being grabbed and him spinning around to cuff the skip himself, making the guy think he'd just been picked up by a man who was into major kink and being so disappointed to learn he was really going to jail, instead of into his own sexual fantasy.

I stood behind Les and waited until he got the message that I wanted him to move so that I could sit next to my woman. He eventually got the message and complained, "Man, I never get to sit next to Stephanie. She might actually want me beside her, instead of you."

I looked at Steph and raised an eyebrow in question. She grinned and made peace by telling Les she'd love to have him sit across from her so she could look at him as he told us more stories. Having his pride sufficiently stroked, he moved happily.

When the pizza came, Steph ate with her usual gusto, and Scar looked like he'd been stabbed. Stephanie noticed right away and asked what was wrong.

"Do you always sound like that when you eat?" he asked, visibly shaken.

I guess the rest of us were so used to it that we rarely commented on it anymore. This time, Cal spoke up and said, "Nah, man, that's just her pizza noises. If you really want to suffer, you should sit beside her when she's eating dessert."

Scar made a face that said he didn't believe she could sound any more alluring than she did at this moment. I took a drink from my water glass to hide my smile, knowing there were sounds that only I knew about now that blew away even her double chocolate cake noises. This woman was sex in heels, even without intending to be.

An hour after the last slice of pizza was gone, Steph asked if we could head back.

"Are you tired?" I asked, thinking it was strange for her to want to leave a good time like this.

She leaned in, trying to keep other people from listening in, and said, "No, but I need to use the ladies room, and I know that it hasn't been secured here, so I figured it would be easier to just go back to Haywood."

I couldn't get used to this woman thinking of safety first. I put my hand on her leg, and it landed on her side arm strapped to her thigh. I couldn't stop myself from grinning at her again. Yes, the more aware Steph was definitely sex in heels.

I announced that we were leaving, and Scar stood and walked to the door to do an initial sweep of his own, not trusting whoever was assigned that duty. I was mentally patting myself on the back for thinking of bringing him in from Boston. He was the only person that I felt would guard her to the same length I did, and I relaxed a little at that thought.

Scar returned and nodded at Steph that we were set. Most of the guys walked out first, creating a wall of protection in the darkness. She walked between Scar and me, still smiling from some story Hector had shared with her as we were finishing up, and then she stopped in mid step and froze.

"What's wrong, Babe?" I asked her, drawing my glock out of an instinctual habit.

"I feel like we're being watched," she said with a degree of uncertainty.

"From where?" Scar asked, his gun in his hand.

She shut her eyes, and then pointed to the northeast. "There," she admitted, doubting herself.

Tank smiled and nodded, before engaging the com unit at his neck and saying, "Michael step forward."

From the shadows directly in line with where she was pointing came Michael, one of the men we'd brought in from the Miami office. She must have sensed him hiding in the darkness and picked up on it. I was both proud of her skills in sensing a tail, and worried about Michael's stealth abilities. I'd talk to the guys about additional training later. For now, I was more focused on getting Steph back to the safety of Haywood.

She tilted her head as though testing the suggestion that Michael was what she'd sensed. I didn't think she looked convinced, but she shrugged it off and turned to me, indicating I should lead on. Scar got in the driver's side door, and I walked Steph to the other side, where I opened her door and checked out the back to be sure no one was in it. There were guys stationed in the lot, so I doubted anyone had tampered with it, and we'd just gotten it back from Al's this afternoon, where I'd had it fitted with a new alarm and tracking system, so I felt confident it was now as safe as a Ford Taurus could be.

I shut the door after she climbed in and began to move away as Scar turned the key. The car coughed, tried to start, and stalled out. I turned to smile at her, hoping she got my mental message that she really needed to let me give her a car and get rid of this one. But instead of meeting her eyes in humor, there was panic on her face, and she was wildly gesturing for Scar to get out of the car and opening her own door at the same time. He clearly didn't want to get back out into the unprotected parking lot, but her insistence made him move, and they both ran in the direction of where I was standing.

In the four seconds it took her to clear the car, my cell phone rang. Vince announced that the control room had just picked up a warning from the new threat scanning system Al had installed yesterday. I didn't have time to warn anyone, before there was an audible click, and then the boom of an explosion – obviously from a bomb – at the rear of her car.

It wasn't a large bomb, but there is no denying it would have been fatal had Stephanie and Scar remained in the car. As the dust and debris settled, I noticed Scar coming toward me, carrying Stephanie. She was conscious and didn't seem to appreciate not being allowed to walk on her own, which was a relief. If she was whole enough to be irritated, then she was most likely fine.

"Can I stand now?" she asked him, not trying to hide her frustration.

"Babe?" I said, hoping she knew I was asking if she was all right.

"I'm fine. I tripped over my own feet when the explosion happened, and Scar was convinced I was injured, despite me telling him I was fine and he was the one with a bloody gash from the flying license plate," she complained, pointing to the cut on the back of his arm.

Sirens were already sounding in the distance, and I knew, despite wanting nothing more than to take her to the office, she needed to be here to give her statement to the cops about what happened. The two uniforms that arrived first were brought to us by Cal, who must have known I wanted Stephanie's involvement completed as quickly as possible. They took her statement, which was short and simple, since none of us had seen a thing. If she hadn't heard a glitch in the way the car sounded when it choked, she wouldn't be standing in front of us right now.

That thought forced me to pull her against me with her back pressed into my chest.

"I'm okay, Ric, really," she assured me.

"I know that in theory, Babe, but I need to hold you for a while to fully accept it," I replied, hoping that made sense to her.

"Then when they say I'm free to leave, let's go back to seven, and you can hold me as long as you want," she teased.

"Are we finished here?" I asked the cops rather abruptly.

They seemed confused about my outburst, but agreed they had all they needed from Stephanie.

Tank agreed to stay until the scene was cleared, so Scar, Stephanie, and I rode back to Haywood in silence.

"Will you let Bobby take a look at your arm?" she asked the silent man in the back when we pulled into the parking garage.

He glanced down at his blood covered sleeve, and shrugged like it was no big deal.

"Please," she continued, making her voice sound vulnerable and broken. "I won't be able to rest if I'm worried about you," she added, making it damn near impossible to say no.

Scar took a deep, defeated breath and nodded that he'd go to the infirmary for Bobby to take a look. She turned back to face the windshield and grinned like a little girl that had just gotten away with a lie to her father and was trying to silently celebrate her manipulation of the situation. I shook my head, realizing there was a lot more to this woman than I ever thought possible.

When we got up to seven, I grabbed her hand, led her to the bathroom, and removed her clothes carefully, before stripping my own off as quickly as possible. I pulled her into the shower and bathed her myself. I wanted to take care of her, as though recognizing how close I'd come to losing her made me feel the need to remove any reminder of what could have been. I also used the excuse of rubbing the bath sponge on her to closely examine her for any scratch or cut that was a result of the explosion.

We'd often referred to Stephanie as a cat with nine lives, to explain how she'd escaped some circumstances that didn't seem possible. Unfortunately, for that analogy to be true, it would mean accepting her nine lives had to be up, meaning at any point now, her luck could run out. If that had happened tonight, if she had doubted her gut reaction or hesitated in speaking her mind about what was happening, I could have lost her.

It wasn't until she said, "Ric, I promise that I'm okay," that I became aware that I had dropped the sponge while washing her legs. From my position kneeling in front of her on the tile of the shower, I had pressed my face to her stomach and was clinging to her thighs, holding her tightly to me so the heat from her body would reassure me that she was real.

Once I was satisfied that we had gotten rid of the smoke and ash, we put on lounging clothes and relaxed on the sofa. I stretched my legs out onto the coffee table and slouched back on the couch, while Stephanie lay down with her head in my lap and her bare feet up on the arm of the sofa. There was only a soft lamp lighting the room and a comfortable silence between us for ambiance. It was hard to believe in the peace of the moment that I'd come so close to losing her tonight.

I was lost in thought, when the phone rang. I stretched over to answer it on speaker. "Yo."

"We found something at the scene," came Tank's voice. "Do you want to come down and see it?"

I looked down at Stephanie sitting so comfortably in my lap and replied, "Bring it up, and get Scar to come up with you." I disconnected the call and put my hand over her stomach to keep her from getting up just because we were about to have guests.

"Why Scar?" she asked after I hung up.

"So you'd have someone to play tic-tac-toe with if Tank and I start analyzing whatever they found and you get bored," I told her, smiling at the memory of her playing with Scar during the meeting earlier.

"It was crazy squares," she corrected me, trying to keep a straight face.

The truth was that I knew if we were going to be kept up, she'd probably appreciate knowing Scar's arm was all right. For someone who claimed the thought of children gave her the hives, she was certainly a mother hen with my men.

There was a firm knock, and then the door opened, to reveal Scar with his arm bandaged and Tank carrying a now familiar envelope. I took it from him silently and tore it opening, realizing there was no point in being perfectly careful. There wouldn't be any prints on it.

The note inside simply said: _There's__ no one to blame but yourself._

"Where did you find this?" I demanded.

Scar smiled, indicating he already knew the answer.

Tank replied, "It was hanging on a car in the lot behind where Michael was standing."

In essence, whoever had put it there would have been directly in the line Steph pointed out at Shorty's when she felt like she was being watched. Once again, that indisputable spidey sense saved the day.

"So whoever did this apparently believed the bomb would kill the occupants of the car, because the note implies someone was lost, if I am to feel guilt over it. But the fact that this was planted so close means they probably also know that Steph survived."

"I don't understand why no one saw them put this on a car," Steph spoke up.

Tank offered an explanation. "They may have waited until we were all panicked from the explosion itself, and then fled the scene during the confusion. Or they may just be that good."

"But you guys are RangeMen. You're the best of the best. You're better," she defended.

"The only thing we know for sure is that the bomb wasn't put on the car at Shorty's, because we maintained a visual the whole time we were there. That just leaves Al's as the most likely place for it to have been planted," Tank added.

Silence descended into the room like a heavy pall on a casket. "We need an explosions expert," Tank said, stating the obvious. "One that specializes in these types of small, handmade devices."

I knew what he wanted and was hesitant to do it, because I feared it would create an uncomfortable atmosphere for Stephanie. I was already putting her life in danger; it didn't seem right to make it more difficult on top of that. Finally, I realized we had nothing else to go off of, and since keeping her alive was more important to me than anything else, I nodded to Tank and said, "I'll make the call in the morning. If it's possible, I assume we'll have one on site by tomorrow night. See if we can get access to the vehicle in order to have the device examined by our expert, along with the PD."

He nodded that he'd gotten everything I'd said, and then glanced at Stephanie. I knew he was trying to tell me that I needed to tell her what we were discussing, but I didn't want her to worry.

"What are you not telling me?" she asked, making Tank chuckle. Scar let out a low soft whistle.

I closed my eyes, knowing I'd just gotten busted. There was no way I could talk my way out of this one.

"Babe, the best explosives expert RangeMan knows of for these smaller devices is Jeanne Ellen," I told her, watching her face for any reaction.

"And she'll be here tomorrow?" Steph followed up, seeming to be okay with the news.

I nodded that she was right.

She relaxed into me once more and said, nonchalantly, "Good. Maybe she can get somewhere with this, since we seem to only hit blank walls."

We talked for another half hour, until Stephanie yawned. As if she'd written the fact that she was sleepy on a billboard, they both stood up at once and excused themselves so that we could get some sleep.

As we changed once more and settled into bed, I didn't try to hide my smile as Steph scooted over to rest her head on my shoulder and wrap her leg around my hip. I don't know if she did it because she wanted to feel me close to her, or because she recognized I needed to hold her to remind myself that despite the close call, she was fine. It didn't matter what the primary motivator was. All that was important was that we needed each other close tonight. And close was how we'd remain.


	14. Visitors

_I am using the genius of JE for a little fun with her original creation._

_Jenny (JenRar) you have been such a great beta and teacher, and a real joy to work with. Thank you for your corrections and gentle suggestions to make this story better._

**Chapter 14 – Visitors**

_Stephanie's POV_

I was desperate. There was no other way to put it. I was bored and trying very hard to keep from thinking about the fact that Jeanne Ellen was coming to RangeMan in a matter of hours. I was trying to stay relaxed about the idea of the perfect woman for Ranger being in close proximity to the man I had just recently admitted I was in love with. But in truth, I was worried that after spending a few days with me and being reminded of how he has to constantly provide protection and care for me because I am not capable of keeping myself out of trouble, that being around a highly trained competent Jeanne Ellen might make him second guess what we were doing together.

Honestly, when I thought about it like that, _I_ didn't know what we were doing together, so how could I expect Ranger to remember? I was running searches for Rodriguez, doing anything I could to stay occupied, but there was too much down time while the computer did its thing, and I was just staring off into space. I wondered if you could get an ulcer from worrying over hypothetical situations.

My phone buzzed, and I literally jumped from the shock of the intrusive sound. I glanced around, hoping no one had seen my lack of awareness, and saw Scar had his head turned to the hall instead of me, but I thought I could make out the hint of a smile at his lips, so I knew he was probably using all his skills to hold in his laughter.

"Good morning, this is Stephanie," I answered as politely as possible with my heart still beating hard.

"Hey, Bomber, there's a woman named Terri here to see you. She says her uncle sent her to talk to you," came Caesar's accented voice.

"Great. I'll be right down," I told him, before suggesting. "You can just put her in the conference room down there."

"Right," he said, letting me know he'd take care of Terri. "And I'll turn the cameras back on. They've been off for some reason."

My face instantly went red, remembering why those cameras were off. Hopefully, I could get through this conversation with Terri without my mind wandering to what Ranger and I had done the last time we were in that room.

I grabbed my purse, stood, and noticed Scar was shadowing me even more closely. I turned to let him know he didn't need to come for this. "I'm just going to talk to a woman as a favor to her uncle. She's not a threat to me," I assured him.

His eyes narrowed, and he nodded his head that he heard me, but when I began to walk more to the elevator, he continued to follow. It was like trying to shake a stray dog you'd given some food to.

"Really, Scar, I'm sure you have more important things to do than stand outside the door while I talk to the niece of a mobster."

I probably shouldn't have mentioned the mob, as his face hardened even more and he pointed for me to keep walking. Realizing this was silly, I took a detour and went to Ranger's office, walking straight in without knocking.

"Babe," he said, his whole face lighting up when he saw me. "Everything all right?" he asked, taking in Scar's less than relaxed demeanor behind me.

"Fine," I tried to assure him, "But Terri is downstairs, and I was just going down to talk to her. I've tried telling Scar this isn't a big deal, but he seems to think I need a continued shadow."

Ranger looked at Scar and stated, "She doesn't need you for this conversation."

"Thank you," I began to say, glad that Ranger was calling off my guard dog. But before I could get it completely out, he kept talking.

"—because I'll be sitting in the meeting with her," he said as a dismissal to Scar and a command to me.

"You don't need to do that. Terri is no threat to me," I assured him.

"I'm not worried about Terri hurting you. She'd never do something so foolish in my building while here at her uncle's command. But you will be standing on the first floor of the building, in front of the glass windows and door where you could be vulnerable, so I will accompany you," he explained.

I knew what he was doing. That glass was the finest bullet proof material available. Probably higher than what the President had in his limo, but Ranger wanted to know what had happened between me and Joe, and I knew he was going to force himself into that room to find out what I was going to say to Terri.

"Fine," I said in an exasperated tone. "You can come, but you'll have to sit away from us at the other end of the table, and you can't interrupt or ask questions. Once I start this story, I'd prefer to just get it all out without stopping."

"Babe," he said, indicating he was the master of being quiet and unobtrusive.

When we entered the conference room Terri was seated in the same chair her uncle had occupied when he was here. True to his word, Ranger sat at the opposite end and never said a word. I took the chair to her left and waited to see if she would speak first.

"Uncle Vito said I had to come and hear what you wanted to say. So I'm here, and I'm listening, but it isn't going to make a difference," she blurted out, making her position clear.

"I thought you might want to know why Joe and I broke up before you two begin something new. We had a pattern of on and off, and I thought if you heard the story of why this time I can guarantee there will be no on again, you might be able to rid yourself of the worry about us possible getting back together."

Her expression softened a little, but she didn't interrupt.

I glanced down at my hands and wondered if I could really do this. "You know Joe and I bounced back and forth and were apart as much as we were together, right?"

She nodded her head, probably wondering when I was going to tell her something she didn't already know. "When we were apart, I don't think either of us clung to the idea that we had to be faithful to each other. At least on my part during one of our breaks, I slept with someone else." My face was turning red talking about Ranger so bluntly with him sitting six feet away from me. "But when we were together, we were completely together, and seeing other people wasn't allowed."

"I know," she admitted with a roll of her eyes. I had to assume Joe had shot down her advances at some point with the excuse that he and I were a couple.

"A few months ago, we were together again, and things were going really well. I had all but moved in with him, and we spent every night together at his place. We were fighting less, and I was beginning to think it was time for us to just give our families what they were pushing for and take the next step in our relationship." Oh man, it was hard to remember feeling that way, even though it had only been a couple of pages back on the calendar.

"I'd been extra busy and working strange hours picking up skips for Vinnie, and his schedule was all over the place with an influx of homicides he was investigating, so we hadn't seen much of each other. But on a Friday night, I finished up early and called the station, only to find out he had been gone a couple of hours and should be home. I decided to surprise him, so I picked up Pino's and rushed to his house. All the lights were on, so I let myself in and announced my presence, only to hear Joe yell something I couldn't recognize from the bedroom. I went upstairs and could hear him making sounds that I usually only heard when we were having sex, so I thought I might be sneaking up on him…well…you know," I said, hoping she wouldn't force me to say masturbating.

Again, she rolled her eyes at me and made a universal hand gesture that proved she was keeping up and knew what I was referring to.

"I got to the bedroom, flung open the door, and saw Joe completely naked, tied up, and being serviced by some woman in leather with a mask on that I'd never seen before. She pulled her mouth away from him only long enough to look up at me and smile. Joe obviously yelled for me to let him explain and tried to run after me, but the knots were pretty tight, so I got out of the house and drove back to my apartment, furious." I finished what I considered to be the worst part of the story, even though others might disagree with me.

"Okay, so he cheated on you with a dominatrix whore because you were never around and he had needs," she summed up, as though that was all there was to say.

Her attitude irritated me a little, and I probably didn't hide that as well as I should have. "Half an hour later, he showed up at my apartment put back together, begging for me to hear him out. I slammed the door in his face and refused to listen. The next day, I had a skip get the better of me and I needed a few stitches, so I was at St. Francis, when Joe came out of one of the exam rooms. My friend Francine, from school, was coming out behind him, with a lab box, and vials of blood. I followed her and asked what was wrong with Joe. She turned bright red, and I knew there was a story there that didn't include official police work. She wouldn't say anything, but she set a piece of paper down between us and pointed. It was the lab request from the doctor, ordering several screens to be run on Joe's blood and swab samples including several STDs."

Now I had Terri's attention.

"Francine said she was going run the samples down to the lab now and the results would be back tomorrow. I came up with a reason to return when she was at work the next day, and the file with the results just happened to be up on her PC when I was standing behind her. She pointed out the important parts that showed while he and I were together, he had not one, but two sexually transmitted diseases."

Terri leaned forward, probably hoping I'd tell her what they were, but I decided she really didn't need to know. She'd never been that nice to me in school, so I didn't feel that I owed her any favors.

"I was pissed off, so I went to the police station and got lucky enough to see Joe standing in the parking lot with Big Dog and Carl, laughing about something. I walked right up to him and slapped his face as hard as I could. Joe assumed it was for cheating, so he began the lame line that if I'd just give him a minute, he could explain. I shut him up by asking how he could explain exposing me to not one, but two STDs. I wasn't bothering to keep my voice down, so everybody in that city block could hear me. He grabbed me by the arm and tried to pull me away from the guys, but I was too far gone to control my anger at that point, so I just kept yelling at him about being a lying, cheating bastard who got what he deserved. Then I stormed off to my car and ran back to my apartment to hide."

Terri didn't seem to mind the public ass chewing, but I knew I had to get to the rest of it to do what I promised Vito I would do.

"That night, there was a knock at my door that I ignored. A few minutes later, the door swung open, and Joe staggered in. He admitted he'd gone to a bar and spent the afternoon trying to get a little perspective from a bottle of Irish whiskey. He was mad that I'd publicly humiliated him in front of people that he worked with, and he wanted me to know that he had more than gotten the memo that we were over. His excuse was that he was working a case with the feds, and in order to keep from blowing his cover, he had to play along and accept the gift that someone with the Santiago family had sent to him. Apparently, Miss Leather Pants was the gift, and he was just going along to keep digging up information on the family he was investigating."

Her eyebrows moved closer to the center of her face. She didn't appreciate the idea that Joe was undercover, digging up dirt on a rival family. I guess it hit too close to home.

"I told him to leave, that I never wanted to see him again, and he said he would go, but not before paying me back for what I'd done to him at the station. It didn't cross my mind what he was implying, until he had pulled his fist back and punched me. He knocked me out cold with one hit. The problem was that we were in my living room, and when I fell back, I landed on the coffee table, where I had a glass of water. The glass broke and embedded in my arm, leaving a three inch gash. When I came to, Joe was on his knees beside me, trying to keep a towel on the cut and whispering a running loop of apologies. I grabbed the towel from his hands, told him to stay the hell away from me or I'd press charges, and then drove myself to St. Francis for more stitches."

I pulled up my sleeve to show her the scar so she'd know I wasn't lying. "By the time I got back to my apartment, Joe was gone. He'd cleaned up the glass and left a note apologizing for what his job made him do, for his other relationships, for drinking, and for losing his temper and hurting me. He begged me to give him one more chance so that we could make things right."

"He left you a note?" she asked suspiciously, as though she figured I'd say I threw it away and then she could pretend I was just making the whole story up. I nodded that it was true, and she said, "I want to see it."

I reached down for my bag, pulled the crumpled paper from my purse, and handed it to her.

I had neglected to tell her the last line, which read: _Please__ tell me there is a possibility we can work this out. After all that's __happened, I__ would be all __alone. I'll have__ to turn back to Terri and give up my undercover work if you refuse to give me another chance._

I knew the last sentence was cruel, but it was the only way to help her understand I wasn't lying, and he didn't love her. She was just his fall back plan until something better came along.

The handwriting was sloppy, more evidence of the amount of whiskey still in his bloodstream, but you couldn't deny that Joe had written it. She held it tightly in her hand for several long minutes, and finally set it on the table and pushed it over to me using just her fingertips, as though she thought it was dirty.

There was a long period of silence, and then she asked, "So when he says he can't believe the two of you are really done, what is he saying?"

"I don't know for sure, but he talked to Eddie, and Eddie told me that Joe is horrified that after spending one afternoon drinking, he turned into his father and came to my apartment and beat me. I think he was hoping I would give him another chance so that we could reconcile and he could prove that he wasn't his father. Then if we broke up again, it would be just because we weren't meant to be, and it wouldn't be because he hit me," I told her, using the only explanation I had.

"Did you break up for good only because he hit you?" she pushed.

"No, I think we would have broken up anyway, just because we wanted different things out of life. But more importantly, he knew my past, and he knew the thing I value above all else is loyalty. The fact that he tried to blame his job for having sex with a stranger was all it took to nail the coffin shut on us forever. And keep in mind, he didn't get an STD from that woman I saw taking care of him. For these to have shown up, time would have passed from when he was exposed. We'd been together a couple of months, so he'd had sex with people other than me while we were together. It's just that he never got caught and had to admit to it."

I shivered at that thought and thanked God once again that I'd always insisted on Joe using a condom. I'd said it was to be extra careful that we didn't get pregnant, but in the back of my mind, I think I knew that I couldn't trust him.

"Have you been checked out?" she surprised me by asking.

"Yeah, I'm good, but then, I always forced him to use a condom, so I hadn't been overly worried about it," I told her, watching as her face fell. "You didn't make him use protection?" I asked, knowing exactly what was running through her head.

She shook her head no, and I watched as the color literally drained from her face. "I was on the pill and didn't see the need. I've known Joey since high school. The idea of him carrying something never crossed my mind."

"I'm sorry," I told her honestly. I'd never really liked Terri, but this wasn't something I'd wish on her, either.

She sat still for a few more moments, trying to get her head around what I'd told her, and then she stood and pulled herself together. "I'll tell my uncle that you were very helpful, and thank him for encouraging you to talk to me. I'll also tell Joe that if he ever tries to contact me again, I'll have my Uncle Vito deliver my response."

She stuck her hand out, and I shook it, thinking how odd it was to touch her. Still, it gave the conversation some closure, so I let her hold my hand, and then walk out with her head up.

The door closed behind her, and I sat down again in the char and spun it around to face Ranger. "So now you know the story," I said, trying to make light of everything I'd just told Terri.

"Babe," he said with a hint of pain in his voice. "Are you all right?"

I knew he was asking if I was okay after being betrayed in that way, but I didn't want to go there, so I said, "Absolutely. I went to see my doctor four times and was fine every time. Besides, he only had gonorrhea and trichomoniasis. They are both curable, and I went on an antibiotic series as a preventative measure, just to be safe. I'm fine." Saying it out loud made me feel slightly guilty for allowing Terri to leave with the impression that he had an incurable disease.

He made a dismissive movement with his head, as though he wasn't the least bit worried about my physical health. "I mean, that was a lot to go through. Why didn't you tell me what happened?"

Now that was a much harder question. "I guess a part of me was embarrassed that he had cheated on me because I wasn't enough to keep him interested. And then, after making such a scene in public, I knew he was pissed and I should have done more to protect myself, so I felt like him getting into my apartment and hurting me was as much my fault as it was his. So I've just avoided him since. Strangely, if it had only been the drinking and the injury, I might have taken him back. But since that came after the betrayal, it was pretty easy to promise that we had no future, ever."

"Trust me, the things he did, the cheating and the lying, were not your fault. I can promise you that you are more than enough to keep a man interested. He has no excuse for wanting someone else," Ranger encouraged.

I smiled, figuring he was a little biased. "Honestly, I was ignoring him. We could have seen a lot more of each other if I'd just tried a little more, but I knew that the less time we spent together, the less we would argue. So using some sort of twisted logic, I figured to make my relationship with Joe work, I'd just avoid him as much as possible. And since I was avoiding him by doing a job he hated and supplementing it by working here, which he hated even more, I guess we were doomed to fail. It was just a matter of when it was going to happen."

"Why didn't he like you working here?" Ranger asked. "You do searches and office work."

"Yes, but you're here, and Joe had a bit of an issue with us being in close proximity to each other," I explained.

"Why?" he pushed in return.

I grinned. "Because despite all his faults, Joe is a good cop and good at reading people. He knew that we had chemistry that went beyond what even we would admit to."

"I can't argue with that," Ranger surprised me by admitting. "How are you now, after going through it again with Terri?"

I thought about it for a minute, instead of just dismissing the question off handedly. "I'm okay. Like I said, I wasn't in love with Joe, so the end of that relationship was only sad because of _how_ it ended. Not because he's out of my life."

"So I'm not a rebound?" Ranger pushed further.

I got up and walked over to where he was sitting to be sure I had his attention. "You aren't a rebound. You were the one I was meant to be with, and anyone else that came along before now was just a diversion."

He grabbed my hands and pulled me into his lap to kiss me. Before things went too far, I pulled back and said, "Oh no you don't. The last time you kissed me in here, you had to shut down the cameras and take off your belt. I'm not going to let Lester get knocked out again because we can't control ourselves."

He laughed. "Lester got knocked out because he couldn't control his mouth. I think we were both very controlled in here." He put his hand on the table and tried to shake it. "The table is still in one piece."

I stood up once more and held out my hand. When I opened the door to walk out, there were five guys standing around the front desk with their angry faces on.

"What in the hell is going on out here?" Ranger barked at them.

Lester was the first to recover. "The feed was live, and we listened. We were just trying to figure out where we want to hide the body. Joe has to pay for what happened."

I couldn't let this get out of hand. "Joe has paid for what happened. This isn't your fight. You can't beat up every guy that's hurt me. The list is too long and would take too much time."

A little silent communication passed through the guys in front of me, before Cal spoke. "We'll divide and conquer. Give us the list; let us worry about the man hours."

Before I could respond, Ranger put his hand on the small of my back and the alert sounded that someone was at the front door. Whoever it was had an access card and swiped themselves into the building.

Tank moved from where he had been standing behind the front desk, and in his deep baritone, said, "Jeanne Ellen."

My heart sank. I'd been trying to be strong and brave about the idea of her coming to help the guys figure out this stalker mess, but after reliving a really vulnerable time, I was struggling to find the woman who had been confidently teasing Ranger yesterday.

She nodded silently at Tank and moved to stand directly in front of Ranger. She didn't hide the once over she gave him, from the tips of his shit kicker boots, to the smooth, black t-shirt pulled tight over his sculpted chest. Finally, stopping at his face, she smiled and said, "I hear you need the kind of help only I can offer."

That bitch was openly flirting with my man. I may feel insecure and unworthy compared to her, but that didn't mean I was just going to lie back and let her have him without a fight.

"I'd like your thoughts on a small explosive devise that was used on Stephanie's car last night," he admitted.

She looked at me, as though being forced to acknowledge an annoyance. "Of course I'll help, since I don't think anyone else is capable."

Did she just insult me, or my guys? I'd come back with something snarky if she only intended it to be a hit on my non-existent skills, but if she was insinuating the guys weren't being useful, either, then I was going to have to make sure she understood her place.

I put my arm around Ranger's waist and turned to put my chest to his, standing with my back to Jeanne Ellen. I spoke in a low voice, but made sure she could hear me. "I'll be upstairs working with Scar on those searches you asked for. Let me know when you're done looking at the empty remains, so we can go upstairs and you can finish your inspection of my newest holster and uniform. My hand was on his chest, and as I finished speaking, I let it trail down and as inconspicuously as possible, graze his nipple. I could feel the sudden draw in of breath he took to keep his controlled face in place.

I regretted that I was just wearing a typical RangeMan uniform, but I still managed to get a little swing in my hips as I walked to the elevator. I turned and looked back at the scene in front of me, and winked at Ranger as the doors began to close, loving the expression on his face that told me he wanted nothing more than to come with me now and leave everyone else to work on the investigation.

I trusted Ric, but in her, I couldn't see any redeeming qualities. Having her here might be a necessary evil to get to the bottom of the stalker situation, but I was going to increase the pressure on Ranger to the point that he would be too exhausted to give Jeanne Ellen a second thought. I guess that more confident Stephanie that seemed to drive him crazy was going to get an extended chance to shine.

_A/N: I really hate to do this to you all, but I'm leaving for vacation this weekend and will be gone for two weeks. During my time away I won't really have internet access so I will have to put this story on hold until I get back. I promise that bright and early on Monday, August 15th I'll have the next update and we will finish this journey together without additional interruptions. Thank you so much for your support and encouragement thus far. We've got a way to go yet, and I am so excited about traveling there with you._


	15. Ding Dong Broccoli Woman

_JE created the world below. I am merely using it for my own entertainment._

_Jenny (JenRar) you are the best! Thank you for your tireless work as the beta on this story. _

**Chapter 15 – Ding Dong Broccoli Woman **

Stephanie's POV

_Remote detonator, small charge, most likely close range detonation (within a quarter mile or less) square device of six inches attached near the gas tank, but drawing __its__ power for the remote signal from the car's battery. Simple to construct, difficult to __attach, and__ suspect would have needed to be on the scene to detonate as there was no evidence of a timer. This is a highly skilled individual. _

I read and re-read the report from Jeanne Ellen about the bomb on my car two nights ago. I couldn't believe how much information she'd gotten from going over the wreckage and was forced to admit she was good. No wonder Ranger had called her in. We'd gotten a copy of the report from the Trenton PD, and they'd basically said it was a small explosive device and that was it. Jeanne Ellen even managed to list the chemicals that made up the bomb itself and suggested this was a bomb taught to most military explosive experts.

A cup of coffee appeared magically under my nose, and I looked up to see Scar raising an eyebrow at me. "You still reading that?" he asked, probably thinking I was either obsessing over it for an unknown reason, or nearly illiterate if I hadn't finished yet.

"Yes," I sighed taking a sip of the coffee and wondering how he knew how to make it so perfectly. I didn't need to add anything to the sugar caffeine mix he'd brought me.

"What's wrong?" he asked bluntly.

"Nothing," I lied, hoping he'd buy it and let me slip into denial about my jealousy of the super perfect woman currently flirting with Vince in the break room.

He put his hand on top of mine when I attempted to type, and then leaned in closer than he usually sat. "Don't lie to me."

I turned my head and saw he wasn't angry, but he wasn't going to let this go, either. "Does she have to be perfect at everything?" I blurted out.

Scar's eyebrows moved closer together, changing the shape of the scar on his forehead. "Who's perfect?"

"Jeanne Ellen," I explained. "She got a to-die-for figure, she's a sharp shooter, can run for miles without breaking a sweat, she's got credentials nearly as impressive as Ric's, and now, she's an explosives expert. When we finally figure out who the stalker is, it will only be because of her help." That came out a little whinier than I'd hoped.

Scar took my hand in his and said, "Come on." He pulled gently, but with enough force that I knew he intended me to follow him.

He led us to the stairs and down to the gym, where he let go of my hand in order to text someone on his phone, knowing if I'd followed him this far, I'd probably keep walking.

We stopped near the mat in the corner, where we'd begun doing yoga in the mornings. Well, Scar did yoga, I allowed him to position me in some odd and slightly uncomfortable positions, while the guys pretended they weren't watching, but I could feel all the curious eyes on me the whole time. But once I'd met him the first day, Ric had told me twice that he was proud of me for trying something new, so I had to keep doing it, if it made Ranger happy enough to repeat himself.

"Haven't we already done this?" I asked, looking at the mat where we'd run through the poses and stretches this morning. I would never admit to it, but after three days in a row, I was beginning to enjoy it and no longer blushed when he mentioned my dog facing down.

"No," he replied, as he went over to one of the closets at the side filled with equipment I rarely saw used. He came back to me with two swords and put one in my hand, working with my fingers and wrists to get it just the way he wanted it.

"What are you doing?" I asked, unaware RangeMan even had swords. I knew I called Ranger Batman from time to time, but to the best of my knowledge, the Dark Knight didn't use a sword as a weapon.

"Jeanne Ellen can't fence," he said, as though what we were doing was obvious.

"Neither can I," I replied, moving my hand to make my point, and realizing how heavy and awkward the hunk of metal was.

"Not yet you can't, but I will teach you," he replied with great confidence.

"You realize I'm a natural klutz, right?" I felt the need to warn him about how dangerous this was for him.

He grinned and shook his head without responding. For the next hour, we worked on stance and basic positions. We moved in slow motion, with him calling out what I should do and the two of us working together in some sort of medieval dance of swordsmanship. My arms were screaming, and I was drenched in sweat, but I was having a marvelous time.

Finally, with our swords crossed against each other above our heads, he smiled at me again and said, "You've got the makings of a great swordswoman. Are you sure you haven't done this before?"

I let my arms fall to my sides and assured him, "No way, but I like it."

He stayed close and said, "I knew you would, and just so you know, Jeanne Ellen is awkward and clumsy with a sword. This is a sport of finesse, and she tries to muscle her way through it, which never works. You are smart enough to make the sword do your will and do the work for you. If we keep practicing, you'll be great at this."

I started to turn from him, appreciating what he was doing, but never knowing how to take such complimentary words. I felt the smooth steel block me from turning, and looked down at the sword touching my arm.

"She's got some useful skills and knowledge, but she isn't perfect, and there isn't a man in this building that would take her company over yours."

I looked over at Scar and saw nothing but sincerity in his expression. I touched his jaw near his chin and let my thumb trace over the pink line that would never go away on his face. I don't know why I touched his scar intentionally like that, but he never pulled away when I did it. I guess it was my way of assuring him that I saw who he was and I accepted him for the whole package.

When I pulled my hand away, I heard a voice that struck me like fingernails on a chalkboard. "Be careful working with her, Scar, or you might get another permanent mark on your face."

I spun around fast enough that it nearly made me dizzy. How dare she speak to him like that! It was one thing for me to touch the mark, but when she mentioned it, her voice dripped with insult.

When I took in her barely clothed body, I saw several marks on her. I knew she'd been in some kind of accident from a mission she'd been on, so I assumed the marks were from that. I wanted to say something about the pot calling the kettle black, but my eyes were drawn to the fact that even though her toned perfect body was on display with tight, skimpy shorts and a sports bra and every mark was visible, she had a small band-aid on her hand between her thumb and forefinger. I don't know why that struck me as odd, but I stared at it long enough that she moved her hand behind her back and moved to the nearest treadmill to work out.

I shook my head, realizing I was obsessing. Ranger had been perfectly clear over the last two nights that he loved me and that as soon as we had this Stalker sorted out, he'd get rid of Jeanne Ellen. He was patient with my insecurities and made sure I got the message that I had no reason to be jealous. And I believed him. I trusted that he wouldn't lie to me, but I still didn't like her being here and wanted her gone as soon as possible.

Just before Scar and I made it to the door, I heard her voice once more, calling my name. "Stephanie."

I turned against my better judgment, curse my 'Burg upbringing, I refused to be rude.

"I'm around, so if you need to leave the building, I'll take you so that Ranger doesn't have to pull any of his men to watch you. If I'd realized you were what he was going to use to draw out this stalker, I would have come when he first asked for my help. As long as I'm here now, I figure I can at least keep him from wasting any more time worrying about your safety. Let me know before you leave the building."

I swallowed once, and since that didn't do the trick, I tried it once more. My voice still didn't seem to work, and the sound of my heart beating in my ears was deafening, so I didn't worry about the standard 'Burg manners and just turned to run out of the gym as fast as possible. Once I was in the hall, I paused, unsure of where I wanted to go.

Ranger had asked Jeanne Ellen to pose as his girlfriend before me. Could I believe her? I knew she was mean and arrogant, but I didn't have a reason to think she was dishonest, especially not talking out loud in the gym, where her words would be recorded. Did he only come to me out of desperation, because he didn't have any other choice?

I found my voice as the elevator arrived. "I'm going up to seven, alone. I'll be back down later."

Scar looked at me, but didn't respond, and turned to go take the stairs instead of sharing the elevator with me. It was a wise move on his part, because I most certainly didn't want company.

I knew Ranger was on Stark today, saving the world, rounding up skips, doing whatever it was that he did so well, so when I walked into the apartment, I didn't bother to keep my voice down and began to ramble aloud.

"Grrr!" Some things couldn't be put into words, but barbaric noises did help. "I can't believe he let me think there was no one else he could do this with, while all along, he was only using me because he had to. If she had agreed to do the job, I'd still be in my apartment, Rex would be in his soup can, and we wouldn't be together."

I walked into the bedroom and fell backward on the mattress in my primary thinking position, continuing to talk to the furniture. "He never said I was his first choice, so he hasn't lied to me." That much was true, but why did it still feel like I'd been betrayed in some way?

I was already feeling self-conscious about my lack of skills and irritated about the fact that when we went out, it seemed like Ranger was so focused on my safety that he was ignoring his own.

Strangely enough, when Joe insulted my skills, I never doubted my ability or determination to do it anyway. Ranger had always supported me and never hurled insults my way. Despite that, knowing I wasn't his first choice was an action that spoke louder than the words of support he'd given. Thinking that he doubted my ability to do this job made me doubt my skills in a way that Joe never could.

I found myself replaying every encounter since he'd pulled me into the bathroom of the bond's office a couple of weeks ago to ask for my help. Was I making a bigger deal out of this than I needed to?

I needed some perspective. I needed to talk to somebody, but there was no one here that I could discuss Ranger with. I knew there was only one person qualified to handle this discussion, but getting to the bonds office might prove tricky. I smiled. It wasn't the first time I'd snuck out of the building, and I doubted it would be the last. Somehow, knowing I was about to outsmart Jeanne Ellen and get away from her self assumed position of my bodyguard made me happy. Who did she think she was, ordering me to contact her before leaving the office?

I picked up my cell phone and hit the number three speed dial number. "Hey, white girl. What took you so long to call me?" came Lula's insulted voice.

"Sorry," I started, and then jumped right in. "I'll explain it all when I see you, but I need your help first."

"What you need?" she asked, always up for an adventure, proving once again why she was my friend.

"I need to sneak out of RangeMan and get out of here for a while to talk," I confessed, hoping she had an idea of what to do.

"You want to come to the office?" she suggested.

I knew that Ranger was always nervous when we were at Vinnie's, so I didn't think that was the safest place to be.

"No, I need to be somewhere unexpected that doesn't have glass and an easy way for me to be seen," I told her.

She thought for a minute and said, "I've got the spot so you can be on the DL."

"The what?" I asked, unsure of what she was talking about.

"The DL. You know, the down low," she explained seriously. "You're sneaking around, so I thought we should use some super sneaky spy shit talk so nobody would know what you're up to."

I had no response to that, so I moved on to the plan. "Can you be at the end of the block in ten minutes?"

"You want to set our watches like they do on TV?" she suggested, making me realize she'd watched too many cop shows, if she wanted to synchronize our watches.

"Just be there, okay?" I pushed, not wanting to lose my patience with her, since she was doing me a favor.

I picked up my purse and started going through it, trying to identify trackers. Then I thought about it and put them all back in. I didn't want to be stupid here, just because Jeanne Ellen had made me second guess myself. I wasn't going to admit that I was sneaking out of the office, but I wasn't going to put myself in a position that I couldn't get help if I needed it, either. With that in mind, I took the panic button out of my bag and slipped it into the pocket of my jeans.

I gave myself a once over and wondered if I should change or freshen up since I'd been working out in the gym with Scar. Figuring this was just Lula and we wouldn't be going anywhere public, it wouldn't matter, so I pulled my hair back in a ponytail and called it a day.

The hard part now was going to be getting out of the office. I could try sneaking out of the garage, but if anyone was there, I'd be busted, and if the control room was watching, they'd know something was up as soon as I was spotted near the exit alone. I decided to go with a slightly riskier plan, in the hope that whoever was at the front desk would think it was true.

With that thought, I called Lula again, and when she answered, I told her, "Change of plans. Pull right up to the front door and put it in park, acting like you are exactly where you are supposed to be."

"Ten-four," Lula replied, confusing spy code with a CB radio sign-off.

I took the elevator down to the main floor and walked out with my hands in my back pockets to hide my nervousness and enhance my chest. I didn't have much, but whatever asset I could use was going to be necessary to make this work.

Just as I reached the front desk with Michael and Caesar on duty, I saw Lula pull up, tapping a beat on her steering wheel. I looked at the guys, feeling slightly guilty for what I was about to attempt to do.

I walked to the window and looked out, and then announced, "Oh good, she's here already." Then I turned back and said, "I'm ready when you guys are."

They looked at each other, and then back to me, confused.

"I'm sorry; I guess that was a little vague. Lula is here to pick me up, but I'm not allowed to walk out that door without someone escorting me and securing me into the vehicle. So I figured you guys were aware that you had to cover me to walk the five feet from the door to that car." I looked them both in the eye, refusing to back down and hoping I wasn't blushing or exhibiting any other obviously signs of my deception.

Michael shrugged at Caesar, and they got up to play their role perfectly. Just before Michael opened the door, I put my hand on his arm and said, "Wait." Then I did a fake pat down on my pockets and glanced in my purse to be sure I still had my gun, and then nodded, "Okay, I'm good now. I just had to be sure I still had my trackers, gun, and panic button. I'm not supposed to leave without them."

Michael nodded, apparently believing every word, and then swung the door open, indicating I should wait while he stepped out first.

He nodded at Caesar, who cupped my elbow in his hand and led me to the car door that Michael had opened.

I rolled the window down as soon as the door closed and said, "I'll call when we're getting close so you can get me back in the building. Sorry to be so much trouble."

"No worries, Steph," Caesar assured me. "We just want you to be safe."

I winced slightly at that comment, realizing if I got caught, they were undoubtedly going to be in trouble for letting me leave the building. I decided to give them a little intel, in case they were asked. "I'll be back in a couple of hours, tops." With that, I told Lula to drive, before my guilt got to me and I turned around and headed back in.

Fortunately, once I was no longer looking at their faces, that sense of guilt left right away.

"All right, while I drive, you talk. What's up?" Lula knew this was about more than just wanting a break from my secure location at RangeMan.

While she drove, I told her all about the relationship between me and Ranger, then I clued her in to Jeanne Ellen being called in and how helpful she had been and how much her presence there irritated me. Then I told her about the comments in the gym and how I felt betrayed that Ranger had asked her first and didn't see the need to let me know I wasn't his first choice.

When I stopped talking, I realized we had driven to Sally Sweet's apartment, and I looked at her, wondering how she'd come up with this.

"What?" she asked, slightly offended at my doubt of her chosen location. "You said somewhere safe, where nobody would think to look for you, so that we could talk. No stalker of Batman is going to come to pretty boy's house looking for him, and he don't got no windows except in one room, so it's safe. Plus, we got a real puzzle to sort out, and you know he's good with puzzles."

I couldn't fault her logic, so I put my hand on the door to step out.

"Hold up!" she all but screamed at me. Then she dug in her purse and pulled out her gun and waved it around. "I'll come get your door, and with this baby out there, nobody will mess with you, cause they know they'd have to deal with me first."

"Be careful with that thing. You don't want to shoot anyone accidently," I warned her, mostly concerned the person that would take a stray bullet would be me.

"I know what I'm doing," she replied in a huffy tone. "I'm your bodyguard, and I'm taking it serious. All bodyguards have guns."

I decided to just humor her and hope for the best, or else we'd waste my precious time out of the scrutiny of RangeMan arguing in the parking lot of a cross-dressing wanna-be rock star's apartment complex.

We moved fast, or as fast as Lula could move with her .45 in the air in her right hand and her left hand on her cleavage. I didn't understand why she was putting her hand there, but assumed based on how low the neckline of her black shirt was that it was too keep everything inside her spandex while it was being bounced around from the movement.

We banged on the door of Sally's apartment, and when he opened the door and saw Lula standing there with her gun in front of her and her other hand lifting her shirt and shaking it, trying to get everything back in its rightful place after the bouncing from the parking lot, he stepped back and motioned for us to come in quickly.

"What the fudge is going on?" he asked, shocking me that he hadn't used his favorite word in that question.

Lula spoke up before I could. "White girl needs a safe place for us to talk for a little bit, 'cause she's got problems and needs our help."

"Come on in." He gestured to the couch in his living room. It was right in front of the only window in his apartment.

"I'm not supposed to be near a window," I said, hoping I wasn't offending him.

"All right, let's go to my bedroom, and you can tell me what in the Ho-ho is going on."

Lula said, "Who you calling a ho? 'Cause I ain't no ho. I ain't done that line of work in a long time, and I don't 'preciate you just assuming I was still in the biz."

"No, I said 'Ho-ho,' not whore. It's a snack cake, not an insult. I'm trying to clean up my language, and one of the guys in the band suggested I use food instead of curse words, so I have to come up with an edible object that starts with the same letter as the swear I want to say. It's like a puzzle to do it without repeating myself every time."

"That's a good idea," I told him, surprised he was able to do it. Usually, I wasn't around him more than five minutes without hearing the major words come out of his mouth, to make his life rated R based on language alone.

"In theory," he agreed, "but the problem with constantly thinking about food is that I'm always hungry, and I've gained ten pounds already."

"So all you got to do to lose weight is start swearing again," Lula pointed out. "That sounds like a diet I could handle. I can swear pretty good and heard some real good ones in my former profession."

We walked into Sally's bedroom, and he picked up a box of Ho-hos and handed them to Lula. "This is what I meant."

"Hmm, you learn something new every day," she conceded, pulling one out and opening up the snack cake for a taste. "It's not bad," she said with a mouth full of chocolate cake and cream filling.

She finished that one and pulled a second one from the box, before stretching out on the bed and saying, "All right, you got us here. What's can we do?"

I swore them both to secrecy, and then started over to fill in Sally about Ranger's stalker and how he'd asked me to pose as his girlfriend and how it had turned into a real relationship in the process.

"Ding Dong, that's hot. The two of you would be smokin' together," he interrupted, confusing Lula with his opening word. Sally got up and pulled out a box of Ding Dongs and showed them to her.

She was half way through sampling a new food, when she said, "All right, so what's the arrival of that twiggy Cat Woman got to do with you needing to get the hell out of Ranger's apartment all secret like."

I looked at her strangely, and she explained, "See, I'm eating the snacks for research purposes, 'cause it's good to be exposed to new things, but I don't want to gain no more weight, so I'm using the swear word diet to keep it from adding to my voluptuous figure."

"I don't think swearing will keep you from gaining weight," I pointed out.

She leveled with me a look that told me my opinion of this diet choice wasn't important here.

I explained about Jeanne Ellen's arrival and how knowing that Ranger had asked her to pose as his girlfriend first had hurt, because it made me feel like the runner up.

"But he picked you as his woman, so why the french fries should you be the runner up?" Sally asked. "He was probably just trying to keep you safe. Who cares if the butterscotch got hurt?"

It took me a minute to respond, because listening to Sally talk inserting food for every swear was making me hungry, and for some reason, I felt like I had to decode his sentences and reinsert the words he was omitting in order to understand what he meant.

Lula jumped in while I was silent and said, "That's right. Besides, Batman ain't gay."

"What?" Sally and I asked at the same time.

"Jeanne Ellen's got tits, I know that, but in every other way, she's a man. She shoots, she fights, she's good with spy shit, and she's just like one of the guys. If Batman wanted one of the guys, then he'd hook up with one of the fine pieces of meat in his building, but that ain't his style. He wants something soft and girlie, so he wants you, not her. You ain't got nothing to worry about," she explained, making a lot more sense than I wanted to admit to. It's also possible that the open bag of Reece's Pieces I was eating had put enough sugar in my system that I was no longer thinking straight.

"What you need to do is quit trying to compete with the doughnut woman in the areas that she's got you beat and start stepping up your game in the places where she can't touch you," Sally suggested.

"What's left that she's not good at?" I asked, hating how weak that question sounded.

"Describe the broccoli to me," Sally suggested.

Lula figured out by broccoli, he meant bitch, and started first. "She's got long straight hair, a pencil thin stick figure, and boobs about this big." For a comparison, she was holding up two vanilla cupcakes that had been sitting on the bedside table. "She dresses in skin tight leather clothes and has her make up done perfect and not a single hair out of place. And she follows orders like some kind of GI Jane yes man."

I wanted to be insulted at the idea that Lula was supposed to be pointing out how different I was from Jeanne Ellen and the last sentence made it sound like I couldn't follow instructions. Of course, the fact that I had snuck out of the building when I knew I wasn't supposed to was evidence enough that it was true.

Sally thought for a minute, and then jumped up. "Okay, so if she is all about following orders and being this straight, tight, leather wearing painted woman, then we'll make you the frankfurter-ing exact opposite."

"How are we going to do that?" I asked, unsure if I liked where this was going.

"I'll do your hair and make up and give you a natural look, but leaving your curls as wild and untamed as possible. Then we'll dress you in a way to bring out the curves of your body," he suggested.

"I don't like wearing leather," I said, not catching on to what he meant.

"No, honey, she's leather. You're going to be lace. I've got a corset that I'll bet would be kick-apple on you," he assured me, before grabbing my hand and leading me to the bathroom.

I let him wash my hair over the sink and put all kinds of gel in it, before using the blow dryer on it and scrunching it to keep most of my natural curls in place, just pulling them around to be sure they weren't so wild that they scared anybody. Next, he added some smooth gray eye shadow, and used a pencil to color my lips to draw attention to them, without making it obvious I was wearing make-up there.

Next, he went to his closet and pulled out a black corset that laced up the back and a mini-skirt that was lined with red, but covered with black lace to match the top he wanted me to squeeze into. I let him talk me into changing and regretted that as he worked the ties from the back to bring my waist in and give the illusion that I had a great hourglass figure. Then, he dove into his closet and came out with a pair of shoes that had heels higher than I could ever imagine Sally wearing and adorable tiny little bows at the back.

"Try these. I found them in my mom's closet, but her feet are too small for me to wear them," he encouraged. "I couldn't throw them away, because she got them in Italy and they were too Diet Coke nice to throw out."

I put them on and looked at myself in the mirror. "Shit," I said, amazed at how hot I looked.

"Damn, girl," Lula said, coming up behind me. "Batman won't know what hit him."

"Holy fuck, you're hot!" Sally said from behind me, and then said, "Aww, crap, I'd been doing so well. I hadn't slipped once, since this morning when I ran out of the damn creamer I like in my coffee. Shit, I did it again." It seemed once he'd allowed one word to come out, the ability to come up with food names was gone, so he slapped his hand over his mouth to stop himself from saying anything else.

"I don't think this is a good idea," I said, even though I did like the overall effect.

"Why not? He'll take one look at you and say, 'Jeanne who?'" Lula pointed out.

"Right, but we're already having sex. This is just proving that the only way I can compete with her is to reduce what Ric and I have into a physical thing. I don't just want him in the bed... I want all of him," I admitted, getting to the point of why I was upset.

It's not that I felt like Jeanne Ellen would make Ric leave me. It was that I was afraid I'd get him at night, and she'd fill all those other needs during the day. I had kept my distance from him for so long because I refused to just have a physical relationship with him, without having all the other stuff, too.

"Ric?" Lula asked. "You on a first name basis with Batman?"

I blushed in lieu of a verbal response.

"Girl, even Tank don't call him Ric. I think you already got all of that fine man. This is just to help you enjoy what you got," Lula said, boosting my confidence.

I looked back in the mirror and smiled. "Have you got anything I can cover up with?" I asked Sally, not wanting to walk into the building like this.

"Soda Pop, yea. I've got a trench coat with a belt you can tie to keep it on," he offered, pulling out a tan London Fog rain coat from the back of his closet. "But that's an outfit you can wear in front of people. The corset came from the drumstick mall, not from the lingerie side of Pleasure Treasures."

I took the trench coat anyway, feeling practically naked, despite being told I was appropriately dressed to go out in public.

"Thanks, Sally, for everything," I said, hoping he knew that despite how strange it was, being treated like a dress up doll had been a fun way to spend the afternoon.

Lula drove us back to RangeMan, and I called the front desk, smiling when Michael answered the phone. The guys secured the area and got me from Lula's firebird to the building.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I stepped into the lobby, figuring I'd made it out and back without any trouble, so if I snuck back up to seven, I might be able to do it without word getting back upstairs.

Before I could slip any further into denial land, the door to the stairs opened, and none other than Jeanne Ellen stepped out. "Well, well, well. Look who decided to come back."

I decided to try silence as the better part of valor and ignored her, turning to thank the guys for getting me back in the building.

Before I could speak, she stepped closer and grabbed the belt of my coat. "What's the matter?" she asked in a tone reminiscent of a bully in a junior high locker room. "Could you not keep your clothes clean for even a couple of hours?" Then she pulled the belt, opening the trench coat and allowing the guys to see what I had on underneath.

Figuring that cowering from her was the wrong approach, I went with the exact opposite of what my mind was screaming for me to do. Instead of turning and running away before anyone could see me, I relaxed my shoulders, allowing the coat to hit the floor behind me, and stepped away from it, giving the guys a perfect view of my Sally inspired outfit.

"Holy mother of…" Caesar started to say.

Michael jumped in with, "Is it time for a shift change?" His face looked pained, like he needed to get away from me as fast as possible but couldn't force his head to turn.

Jeanne Ellen took a step backward, as though the sight of me in front of her somehow burned her, and said, "You bitch," under her breath.

I walked away from the chaos I had created and hit the button for the elevator, praying that for once in my life it would come quickly and end this humiliation before it went any further.

I guess the fact I hadn't been to mass since Easter should have alerted me that my frantic prayers weren't on the top priority to answer list. When the elevator opened and Lester, Bobby, Cal, Hal, and Vince all stepped out and laid their eyes on me, you could have heard a pin drop.

I stepped into the empty space and hit the button for seven, thankful that RangeMan had such a fast elevator. "See you later, boys," I said with a finger wave as the doors shut.

Without thinking about the camera in the corner or the microphone that recorded all sounds, I opened my mouth and said, "Any chance I can get up to seven without having to stop?"

As if on cue, the elevator slowed, and then I heard the tale-tale ding of the doors opening on five, meaning someone was about to see me and anyone near the doors was going to get an unobstructed view.

"Babe," Ric said as an answer to my question.

I guess that was a no to being able to preserve any remaining dignity.


	16. Punishment

_JE deserves all the credit for the Plum Universe depicted below._

_Jenny (JenRar) you are an amazing beta. Thank you for your encouragement and hard work to get this story ready to post._

**Chapter 16 – Punishment**

_Ranger's POV_

We rode to the seventh floor in silence. Steph was gripping the rail around the back of the elevator so tightly, her knuckles were white. I didn't want to say anything until I figured out which urge I should recognize first. I couldn't deny I'd never seen her look as sexy as she did at this moment. I don't know what she was wearing, but it was the kind of thing that could star in a grown man's fantasies.

There was the temptation to grab her body and slam it against the wall as soon as we walked in the apartment, just to take her in the way that outfit deserved.

But then there was the other urge, which was to sit her down on the couch and ask what the hell she was trying to do by leaving the apartment for two hours without taking a bodyguard with her while her life was in danger.

Cal told me about Scar working on sword skills with Stephanie in the gym, and I pulled up the camera feed after I got back from a redecoration on Stark. I felt like a damn pervert for shutting my door so that I could enjoy the show; I couldn't get over how well she was doing. There was no doubt that Scar was a good teacher, but Steph was a natural, and the look on her face when she finished was one of radiant joy. I couldn't be more proud.

I saw Jeanne Ellen enter the gym, and the two of them exchanged words. I was suddenly regretting my decision to let Jeanne Ellen stay at RangeMan in case we needed more help with the stalker. I knew she hadn't been cleared for duty again, so while she continued to heal from her injuries, working here was probably a relief to keep from going stir crazy.

When they finished talking, Steph's face was frozen in an expression I didn't recognize. She looked furious at first, and then that fell and was replaced by hurt, which made no sense. Jeanne Ellen hadn't had enough time to say anything mean, and in all honestly, she was usually so short in her conversations that I doubted she'd said more than a few sentences.

I followed the camera views to see her interact with Scar in the hall, and then they split and went their separate ways. I didn't know what was going on, but something was clearly wrong. I knew she wasn't in her cubicle, as Scar was working there alone, so I figured after she went upstairs, she'd stayed on seven. I shut down the feed and grabbed my keys to go upstairs and figure out what was wrong with Stephanie.

As soon as I walked in, I knew she wasn't here. There was no feeling that hit me at the door that was only present when she was. It felt like home, and when she was gone, so was that comforting embrace. I could see she'd spent time on the bed; the pillows were beaten in, like she'd tried to get her aggression out on them. The next thing I noticed was that her purse was missing. I looked around to see if she'd fallen into her past behavior and tried to ditch her trackers to escape. When she was mad, she didn't think as clearly as I'd like, and she tended to run off with no back up plan for her safety.

I realized quickly that her panic button, trackers, and gun were all missing, which meant even if she'd run out of here mad about something, she at least had a chance of being safe. I went back down to five and pulled up her tracker. It was stagnant at an address that was vaguely familiar, so I pulled it up and saw it was Sally Sweet's apartment. I'd been there once before and figured it wasn't a bad place for her to be. It was back from the main road, only had one window, and very few people would ever think to look for her there. I was relieved that she hadn't run off to the bonds office with Lula. As it was, I buzzed Hal and asked him to get Bones and the two of them head over to Sally's for backup if needed. I wanted them out of sight, but close enough to offer assistance if Steph was in trouble.

With that done, I started running through the internal tape until I found her going downstairs. When I got to the footage of her actual departure, I could tell from her stance that she was up to something. She never hid her hands like that, but I doubted that either of the guys at the front desk knew her well enough to pick up on it. Strangely, they secured the area and escorted her to Lula's Firebird. It looked like she'd spoken to them, so my next call was going to be to find out first and foremost why they let her out of the building, and secondly, what she told them she was doing.

Before I could pick up the phone, my door opened. I was irritated that whoever it was just opened it and began to walk in without my permission. Steph was the only one I tolerated that behavior from. Jeanne Ellen came in and sat on my couch as though she owned the place.

There was no point in denying she and I had a lot in common. We had similar backgrounds and previously held identical stances on the possibility of having a relationship in this line of work. Because neither of us ever wanted a serious emotional tie, we would hook up from time to time, as a physical thing only. She was a means to an end when my body needed something and nothing more. I never felt guilty about it, because she made it perfectly clear that's all I was for her, as well.

Seeing her on my couch, looking around as though she belonged here, was putting me on the defensive, which was a new feeling between us.

"Was there something you needed?" I asked curtly.

She took her time looking at me and replied, "Just checking in to see what you might need from me."

"You had a conversation with Stephanie in the gym," I began. "I want the details." There was no point in beating around the bush with Jeanne Ellen. She didn't need it, and I wasn't in the mood to try it.

She grinned. "I'll never understand why you keep her around. I mean, she's entertaining enough, but surely you can find better ways to spend your limited free time."

"My free time is my own to spend however I see fit," I pointed out, and then watched her until she gave in and told me what I wanted to know.

"I ran into her and told her that I would take her anywhere she needed to go so that she didn't have to pull one of the guys off their assignments to be her bodyguard," she said.

It was presumptuous, but not a bad idea.

"It was the least I could offer, since you went to her after I turned you down. She wasn't your first choice, and I thought I should try to limit the residual fall out of what you were forced to do while I wasn't available," she continued, making something click.

"What did you say?" I interrupted her.

"You asked Steph to help you with your stalker because I couldn't do it. She was your fall back, and since I felt badly about how far you had to fall back, I wanted to try and make it up to you," she said, giving me exactly what I needed to know about why Steph was angry, and then hurt.

"I asked you first, because I knew you would understand the risk I was asking you to assume, and if you were injured as a result of my stalker, it would just be part of doing business. I didn't ask you first because I preferred spending time with you over Steph or I thought she was incapable of doing it." I stood up to leave, wanting this conversation over with as quickly as possible. As the door swung open, I turned back and added, "And in the future, I handle the security detail for Stephanie, because only the team members that I trust the most are assigned to guarding her."

Leaving Jeanne Ellen to stew on that little bombshell, I walked over to Tank's office and gave him a run down of my previous conversation.

"Sounds to me like you got the makings of a cat fight on your hands," Tank replied. "You sure it was smart to put Steph in the middle like that? She's used to everybody at RangeMan looking out for her and may not adjust to the idea of someone from here as a threat."

"I think Steph already sees her as a threat, but for the wrong reason," I told him. "I think she's assuming Jeanne Ellen is interested in me, personally."

Tank whistled and shook his head. "Man, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes if Steph starts to get upset about having Jeanne Ellen here. What are you going to do?"

That wasn't an easy question to answer. "If she wasn't so good at what she did, I'd just send her home, but until we get this stalker, I'm afraid we may need her. I guess we'll just have to find a way to keep them separated."

I stood up to leave.

"Good luck with that, man," Tank called out, basically telling me I was on my own with this one. There was a time when I used to think I had the loyalty of my men...

I was about to return to my desk, when I heard Binkie yell out from the control room, "Holy shit, look at Bomber."

I moved as quickly as possible, while trying to maintain the image that I wasn't worried about whatever I might see.

She was facing a camera, with Jeanne Ellen standing right in front of her, holding a trench coat open to see what Steph was wearing. It was hard to tell with Jeanne Ellen in the way, but it appeared she was wearing an outfit I definitely would like, but wasn't sure I wanted my men to see. Before I could think it through Steph's eyes narrowed, like she was irritated at whatever was said to her, and she pushed her shoulders back, allowing the coat to fall to the floor.

"Stop the elevator at five," I commanded, when I saw she was moving in that direction. I wanted to be as close to her as possible to get to the bottom of what made her leave and to insure the guys weren't gawking at my woman while she was dressed like this.

As soon as the doors opened, I said, "Babe," and stepped on with her, content to let the silence build between us while I figured out which element of the way I felt right now should be addressed first.

We stepped out on seven and before I could make a decision about how to begin, Stephanie spoke up. "I have one question, and I want you to promise to tell me the truth."

"I've always told you the truth," I didn't want to get into the debate over lying by omission, and found comfort in the fact that I'd never said a false word to her.

"Did you want Jeanne Ellen to pose as a romantic interest, instead of me?" She looked as though she already knew the answer and was hoping she was wrong.

"Yes," I replied, feeling a pain in my chest worse than any knife wound at the expression of hurt that came over her face. I knew I had a limited amount of time to make this right. "Not because I am interested in her in any way, because I'm not. It was because if she got hurt by this stalker, I could have treated it like any other injury at RangeMan and played it off as an unfortunate consequence of dealing with a dangerous enemy. But if you get hurt, then I'll never be able to forgive myself for being the cause of putting you in harm's way, just to flush out someone to make my life easier."

Her gaze darted from my eyes down to my chest and back up again. "If she'd said yes, would we be together?"

I didn't know how to answer that. "Probably not now, but I'd like to think we would still have found our way eventually."

Her shoulders relaxed slightly, and she crossed her arms over her stomach. "I had a conversation with her in the gym this afternoon, and it set me off. She told me I was a drain to you and your men, and I needed to alert her if I was leaving the building so that she could be my bodyguard. I had to get out of the building and get the hell away from her, so I had Lula pick me up and take me to Sally Sweet's apartment. I had the guys cover me at the building here, and I had my gun, trackers, and panic button with me. I know I should have let you know first, but I wasn't ready to see you."

"Why couldn't you come to me and ask me about it?" I asked, wanting to understand why her insecurities were so hard to talk about.

Her hands went up in the air in one of her classic gestures. "You weren't here, and when I thought about it, I knew that I trusted you, and this would sound like I thought you were going to cheat on me. I didn't want to insult you that way."

"So you believe that I would never cheat on you?" I needed to be sure she did.

"Yes, but I realized with you, that isn't my biggest fear like it was with Joe, or even Dickie," she clarified.

"What is your biggest fear?" I asked, nervous that whatever it was, I wouldn't be able to assure her like I could about sleeping with another woman.

"For a while now, I could have had a physical relationship with you, but that's all you led me to believe you could offer, and if all I could have was your body, then I wasn't interested. Now that you've let me in and I know what it's like to have all of you – your body and your heart – I can't go back to just being the woman you have sex with at night. I was afraid that with Jeanne Ellen here, you would see that you two share so much more and she would begin to fill the role of the woman you spent your days with, and I would be pushed back to the woman you came home to, but we'd only share a bed," she explained, a single tear running down her beautiful face.

I watched that tear fall, moving quickly down her pale skin, and it was a new form of pain. I finally found the ability to move and grabbed her, pulling her hard to my chest and holding her tightly – perhaps tighter than the moment called for.

"Babe, you'll never play the role of the woman who only shares my bed. Remember, we're in the same place. Now that we've seen what this can be like together, I can't go back to us being apart." She needed to know it was her that I wanted. I was picking her, above anyone else. It was all about Stephanie.

I loosened my grip slightly and added, "I have never wanted a relationship with Jeanne Ellen, and I never will. I respect her skills the same way I do Hector's or Scar's, but there's a reason I've never brought her on full-time at RangeMan."

Steph pulled her head back and looked at me, "Why didn't you bring her on?"

I smiled and told her the truth. "Jeanne Ellen likes to take over wherever she is, and since this company has my name in the title, I don't need her help running it. I won't lie to you about my past with her, but when you get down to it, I've never really liked the woman."

She smiled at the last sentence, and I could literally see the gears in her head spinning as she thought through the rest of what I said. "What do you mean, your past with her?"

She had to ask, didn't she? I took Steph's hand, led her to the easy chair beside the sofa, and sat down, before pulling her to sit across my lap. "There have been times in the past, after a successful mission with Jeanne Ellen, that we've celebrated. It hasn't happened since I've gotten to know you, but it did happen before we met."

"So you've had sex with her?" Steph asked, trying to force me into saying it.

"Yes, I have. It was never anything other than sex. There was no morning after, there were no romantic dinners, or conversations about our lives. Jeanne Ellen may know what my skills are in the field, but you know me, Babe. You are the only one that's ever really known me," I said, trying to keep from begging, but hoping she understood that I needed her to believe me.

When she put her hand over my heart, I let out a long breath. "I know there were people in the past that you've slept with, just like you know there are people in my past. I guess if you could be strong enough to work with Joe for years while I was technically with him, then I can buck up and work around Jeanne Ellen, too."

"Proud of you, Babe," I said, watching her whole face light up and feeling the weight of just how beautiful she was, looking at me at this moment.

Her expression shifted, and she smiled a little more deviously. "But just to be clear, that woman will never be my bodyguard or the person I report in to when I'm leaving the building."

"No," I agreed, not at all surprised.

"I'm sorry I snuck out," she said quietly, as though she really did regret her actions. "I didn't mean to worry you. I just needed a break and figured since the guys all know her, they wouldn't understand why I needed to get away."

I couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped from my mouth. "They may respect her skills – Jeanne Ellen is sharp – but there's not a man in this building that would ever choose her over you. They might work with her, but they'd die for you. There is a whole different level of respect and love for you than what she'll ever receive or deserve."

That made her smile, so I moved my free hand to run down the skirt and to her bare knee. "Can I ask what you're wearing?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.

Stephanie laughed out loud at my question. "It's all Sally's fault."

"What is?" I wondered.

"He said if I was jealous of everything Jeanne Ellen was, then I needed to accentuate the ways we are different, instead of trying to copy her in the ways she's good. Since she is a stick figure in leather, Sally made me into curves in lace," she explained, her face turning my favorite shade of rose.

I leaned in and pressed my nose in her curls. They were wild, just the way I loved them most. "I love your curves, Babe," I confessed. "And they are definitely on display in this outfit."

As I moved my mouth to her neck, she asked, "So you like the corset?"

"Love it," I told her quickly, and then pulled back to be sure I had her full attention, "But Babe, you can't wear this in front of the guys ever again."

She seemed surprised. "Why not? Sally said it was from the top section of a store in the mall, not from a slutty lingerie store."

"Because this outfit gives me lots of ideas, and if I have to call all the guys who are no doubt discussing how sexy you are right now to the mats, then I'll be too exhausted to show you just what kind of effect you're having on me," I told her, while moving my mouth back to her neck and drawing some of the tender skin between my teeth, feeling the need to be sure every man in this building knew she was mine.

"Ric..." She said my name as though it were a question.

"Yeah, Babe," I replied, encouraging her to talk, but not moving my mouth from her silky skin.

"Are you angry with me for leaving?" she wondered, bringing up something I knew we needed to talk about.

"You scared the shit out of me, Babe," I told her honestly, drawing on my control to get a grip on myself so I could pull away from her creamy shoulder to say what needed to be said.

"I'm sorry…" she started, but I interrupted her before she could get into her apology.

"But when I saw you had your purse with your tracker, panic button, and gun, I went downstairs and pulled up your location. It was Sally's and after thinking about it, I realized it was probably a good place for you to be, so I asked Hal and Bones to ride over and watch out for you, without giving away the fact you were being followed." I felt like I had to confess having a shadow on her. "I was proud of you for having the guys cover you in and out of the building and for carrying the gear I've always asked you to. You may have snuck out, but you did it with a greater thought about your safety, and I appreciate that."

She smiled at the compliment, and then crossed her legs in a teasing way. "So I'm not in any trouble?"

Picking up on what I thought she was alluding to, I ran my hand down the back of her thigh, stretching out my fingers wide to touch as much skin as possible. When I got to her skirt, I went under the material to grip her ass and squeeze one of the curves I most loved.

"Oh, you're in trouble, but I think in light of the concessions you took for your safety, we can let this one go, with just a little disciplinary action between us to be your reminder not to step out without at least letting me know first."

"Sometimes I have trouble remembering important lessons," she said, making her voice airier and lower so that the sound waves went straight to my crotch. "You may need to discipline me thoroughly to be sure I can remember what you want."

This woman was going to be the death of me. I stood up, cradling her like a bride over the threshold. "Trust me, Babe," I responded with my own version of a deep bedroom voice. "When I'm done with you, there's no way you're going to want to sneak away from me, but if you do, you won't forget what will be waiting for you when you get back."


	17. Behind the Scar

_I get no credit for the Plum Universe below. It is all from the creative mind of JE._

_Jenny (JenRar), super beta extraordinaire, thank you for using your powers to cut off my run-on sentences, point out my inconsistencies, and for throwing around your comma generator when my phrases are just dangling out there helplessly._

**Chapter 17 – Behind the Scar**

_Stephanie's POV_

"I can't do anymore!" I screamed at Scar as he continued to call out sword positions, matching my every move with one of his own. Didn't he realize this damn thing was heavy, and I was doing a convincing impression of a woman caught in a rainstorm from the sweat pouring down my body? This wasn't a good look for me. While some women can pull of sexy when wet, I just look…wet.

"You can, and you will," Scar insisted, raising his sword one more time and forcing me to block his advance. Hearing the clank of the metal, he smiled and said, "See, I told you there was a little more in you."

"Know it all," I teased when he backed up, giving me a break.

I walked over to the bench, picked up a towel to wipe my face, and then got a bottle of water. I glanced at Scar, who was shirtless, and realized he was barely even damp from the exertion. If anything, he was just a little shinier, making his muscles stand out even more and giving him a sexy looking glaze. Mother Nature was so unfair.

He caught me staring and grinned at me. "You're getting better," he added, to keep me encouraged.

I knew he was right, and the fact that I was enjoying it, despite the work making my arms feel like Jell-O, was a plus, as well.

"What's the plan for the day?" he asked, sitting next to me and finishing off the bottle of water I'd started.

"Didn't you used to be quiet?" I teased, enjoying the fact that he was coming out of his shell more and more every day.

He shrugged, turning back inward as was his habit every time I tried to learn more about him.

I backed off, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. "Last night, I noticed the lights were on at the top of the building where Alan Burrows has an apartment. I thought I'd check with Hector to see if he got any footage of him at the door. Maybe having a face will give us a clue who this guy is."

Scar shook his head and stood up.

"What?" I asked, thinking I was pretty smart to have noticed the lights.

"You're good, and I can't believe you don't realize it," he stated, like it was obvious.

I hooked my arm around Scar's elbow and teased, "Maybe it's from hanging out so much with you. I've got to bring my A game to keep up." I placed a quick kiss on his cheek and ran off to shower and change upstairs, leaving Scar alone to blush in private. I had to admit it was fun to watch him flush. I guess I could see why Ranger got such a kick out of it when I did it.

An hour later, I was downstairs with Hector, reviewing the tape from the night before at the building to our west. We went through the whole day, and there was nothing to see. No one entered or exited from the only door.

I knew I'd seen a light, and at one point, Hector pointed to the floor at the door and said, "Light on, but it could be set on a timer. No one's there."

I sat back hard in my chair, disappointed that we'd hit another wall. The stalker had grown strangely quiet for the last few days, and I was frustrated that I couldn't come up with any new angles to look at this.

I decided to go back upstairs and see if Ranger would let me look over the letters and pictures once more. I knew there were a few that came before I was involved, and I'd never seen at those.

Ranger wasn't in his office, so I knocked on Tank's door and heard a gruff, "What now?"

I opened the door slowly and peeked around the wooden barrier. "Is it safe to come in?"

Tank smiled and sat back from the pile of papers on his desk. "Come on in, Stephanie. What can I do for you?"

"I wondered if I could look at all the correspondence from the stalker, even the contacts prior to my involvement," I told him.

He nodded and walked over to a locked closet in his office to pull out a thick file folder. "These are copies. Bossman has the originals." He gave them to me and added, "I hope you can see something we can't see. The restrictions to our operations are starting to grate on everyone."

"I'll let you know if I see anything," I promised, hoping there would be something I could find in order to offer some hope, if nothing else.

With that done, I went back to my cubicle and sat down, not at all surprised when Scar appeared magically by my side with a cup of coffee made perfectly. I took a sip and said, "There's no way this came from the break room."

All I got was a smile and silence, as though that were an answer. He pointed at the folder and raised an eyebrow. Honestly, it was a good thing I could now read RangeMan body language, or I'd be convinced all the guys were mute.

"It's the complete stalker file, including all the contact prior to my arrival in this mess. I was hoping we might see something the guys missed earlier," I explained, pulling out the individual envelopes and putting them in order.

I had no idea this stretched back for six months. The first two included photos from Trenton, but the next three were from Miami. I only knew that because I'd seen pictures of the Miami RangeMan office building. Plus, Ranger was dressed differently. Instead of his usual black cargoes and t-shirt, he had on looser pants and a shirt that was squared off at the bottom and untucked. It looked tropical and comfortable, and I wondered why he'd dressed differently. Of course, there was also a snapshot of him in full swat gear, loaded down with weapons and his Seals hat. I couldn't stop the sound of appreciation at how hot he was dressed like that.

"Moving on," Scar said, hearing my distracted noise and taking the picture from my hand, replacing it with the letter telling Ranger he needed to leave Miami and get back to Trenton, where he belonged.

So apparently, the stalker was available to travel, and could do so undetected, but they were native to Trenton, if they wanted him here. I guess any clue, no matter how small, was worth jotting down, so I pulled out a legal pad and made a note of that observation.

The next threat was to Ric's sister, Celia. There was a photo of them having lunch and a promise to get rid of her if he didn't. I noticed the other photos were of him with random men, and the stalker made no comment about that. I didn't care what the guys said. It was time to start narrowing down this search, and based on the threats only elevating when Ranger was with women, I was convinced the stalker was one, too, so I added that to my list.

I had to laugh when the stalker apologized for not recognizing that Celia was his sister and backing off her previous threat to take out the competition. So whoever this was didn't know Ranger's personal life very well, but they most likely had a good idea of how his professional life worked, if they were able to observe him undetected.

The more I looked at the photos, the more I was convinced it was just one person working alone. They were all capturing a similar expression on Ric's face, and only one very patient person would be able to consistently record that type of look.

Once I'd worked my way through the information, I wasn't impressed with my meager observations. There was nothing that screamed, "Here is the stalker's ID!" like I'd hoped. I moved the stack back to the beginning and started over, willing something new to jump out. Halfway through my second pass, that voice I so despised rose up from the control room, arguing with Hal.

"No, the plan is that they will head over to the bonds office this afternoon. You can stay here, because I'll go to run the perimeter. Your skills aren't needed in this kind of operation," she stated, as though the maintaining of a tight secure area wasn't all that important.

I knew Hal was a great CSI, and I supposed it wasn't necessary for him to come and keep a watch out, but his attention to detail was often helpful in spotting some of the smaller clues other people might overlook. It was the big things he tended to miss, like the foolishness of giving in when a sly brunette asked to borrow his stun gun.

Still, the fact that she was daring to change the schedule I knew Tank had worked hard to put together was irritating. I remembered Ranger saying she liked to take over and that's why she could never work here permanently, and I fully understood it. I didn't think it was my place to interrupt, but I was going to see to it when we left for Vinnie's that Hal was a part of the team departing.

A half hour later, Ric's magic hands landed on my shoulders, making me jump from surprise and Scar to lose his normally stoic appearance and bust out laughing. It was almost worth being startled to see him laughing so hard.

"Ready to head out?" Ranger asked, ignoring Scar's attempt to pull himself together.

I spun my chair around and glared at the sexy man in black. Standing up to make us more equally positioned, I warned him, "You shouldn't sneak up on people. I think I'll need to teach you a lesson about that."

He gave me a grin that caused me to look down to avoid the flush I knew he would create. "I believe you enjoyed being taught a lesson a couple of nights ago. If you do it right, I may start sneaking up on you on purpose, just to see what you can dish out."

I turned away, unable to look him in the eye as the memory of our night together after I'd snuck out to get some perspective at Sally Sweet's apartment came back to me. He loved the corset, and the naughty edge of what I was wearing seemed to invite a side of Ric I'd never know to come out and play. My ass was a little tender the next morning, but I had to admit, I'd barely noticed it because of how sore the rest of my muscles were. I had no idea how erotic things could be when they were done by the right man that you trusted unconditionally.

I shook my head to clear it and picked up my purse, which now doubled as a small mobile armory. Honestly, did Ric think I never checked my bag to see how many new trackers and weapons he'd slipped in?

On the way down to the garage, I nudged him and said, "You've got to stop putting things in my purse. I don't believe I need two knives, a lock picking kit, _and_ a speed loading round for my .38."

He grinned at me and said, "You can never be too careful."

"Maybe not, but the extra weight is starting to hurt my shoulder from lugging it around," I came back with. "And I don't even know how to pick a lock," I added, pointing out the foolishness of such an item on me.

Scar, however, heard my admission and glared at Ranger briefly, before softening his expression and saying, "I'll teach you how to use it this afternoon."

I nodded that I'd heard him, and then looked straight ahead to try and figure out why he would be upset with his boss over what I'd said. It's not like my shoulder was throbbing. I just had to lean slightly to accommodate the extra weight and stay upright.

You'd think I'd be used to the overkill security presence everywhere we went, but when we stepped out into the garage and I saw the four guys who would be on alert for the stalker, and the three who would be securing the area to watch our backs – not counting Scar, who refused to leave my side for any reason – I was beginning to think this was a bit much. Before I could question it, the door to the stairwell opened and Hal stepped out with a red face.

He joined the team that was to look out for the stalker, and I couldn't hide my smile when Jeanne Ellen shot him a murderous look. _Take __that, you__bitch!_ my mind was screaming. I even put my hand over my mouth to be sure I didn't say it out loud, but the little thirteen year old who was alive and well inside me was jumping up and down that he'd stood up to her.

Ranger did a quick ESP with Tank, and then nodded his head in the direction of Jeanne Ellen. "Load up," Ranger commanded, and everyone started moving.

I couldn't help but notice when Tank walked over to Jeanne Ellen. Whatever he said, she didn't like, because the look she gave him, and then Hal, was frightening. She folded her arms over her chest and stormed to the stairwell like a child who was told there was to be no dessert after dinner.

I made it a point to walk over to Hal before he got in the Explorer he was riding in and put my hand on his arm to stop him. "I'm glad you're here. I always feel safer when I know you're looking out for me."

He smiled, knowing exactly what I was saying. "I've got your back," he said in response.

I couldn't help but respond, looking at the door while I was talking, "And I've got yours, too." I felt his warm hand on top of mine as he squeezed briefly, and then let go.

I dashed back over to Ric and Scar and got in the passenger side, where Scar was holding my door open for me. "That was a really nice thing to do," he commented softly when I moved in front of him.

I shrugged it off and got in, but I could feel him watching me, trying to press his point a little harder. I guess he wasn't used to me yet. These were my guys, and even though Jeanne Ellen may have better skills than me, she wasn't going to waltz in here and start pushing them around.

The ride to Vinnie's was uneventful, and we went through the usual dog and pony show to clear the area, before I was escorted in. Honestly, I don't think the Secret Service was this thorough.

This time, Ric left me alone in the front office while he went back to Vinnie's inner sanctum. They met privately from time to time, and I knew he hadn't gone back there that I was aware of since I'd been with him. I tried to control the brief shudder at what he was being exposed to behind closed doors with my cousin, but I let that thought go, preferring denial to the possibilities that popped into my head.

Lula, Connie, and I were chatting away. I was amused that Lula was still trying out the swear word diet, thinking the more her language resembled a sailor's, the more weight she might lose. I knew better than to correct her.

In the middle of one of her stories about a low level skip slipping away while she was tucking her gun into her bra because it was more accessible than the waistband of her pants, there was a strange sound, and then the noise of glass cracking, but not shattering.

I didn't have time to process what was happening, before Scar had me flat on the floor, with his body on top of mine. I didn't know it was possible to move that fast. The door to Vinnie's office banged against the wall when the door was forced open. I jumped from the force of the sound, knowing it was a silly reaction.

I tried to get some clue about what was happening, but Scar's arms were wrapped over my head, making it impossible for me to move. "I just want to look around," I insisted, wanting to be sure he understood I wasn't trying to stand up.

"Not until we get the all clear," he replied, unmoving on top of me. "You need to stay still; the guys are trying to secure the area. You can't move, not even a little." He was beginning to ramble, and for a man who rarely spoke, it was scaring me.

"I'm okay," I assured him. "You got me out of the way in time."

I could feel him shake his head no, as though that wasn't the point, and he still wouldn't allow me to move. Even with the weight of Scar on my back, I was aware when Ranger came to us. He knelt to the floor and spoke, but not to me, as I'd expected.

"Scar, man, she's all right, and Tank's given the all clear. I need to get her to the back door where the truck is waiting to get us back to Haywood. You're going to have to let her go so she can walk." It had that soft soothing tone, like a hostage negotiator would use in a tense situation, and as he continued to tell Scar what needed to happen next, I could feel his body relax.

Finally, he seemed to snap out of whatever place the noise had sent him, and I felt his weight lifting. His voice was stronger and more in control as he told me, "I'm going to stand up, and then when I tell you it's okay, you need to get up quickly and stand in front of me, so that I am between you and the window."

I shook my head no. "You aren't putting yourself in danger for me, Scar. I won't let you sacrifice yourself for me." I knew what he meant, and I wasn't going for it.

One of his hands went to my hair, which surprised me. Even when we did yoga together, he rarely touched me, except to change my position in some small way. He was always close, but usually stopped shy of any contact. "You can't ask me to step aside. I want to respect what you need, but this is who I am, and it's all I know." After a shaky breath, he added, "Please."

He had to bring out the big guns, didn't he? I knew I would agree, so there was no point in arguing about it. "All right, I'll wait for your signal."

I felt him come off me, and after a few seconds, he told me stand up. I'd barely gotten vertical, before he had his hands on me, pulling my back to his chest, leaving his back completely unguarded at the window. I glanced at Ric and saw him nod at me, letting me know that this was the right thing to do. Now wasn't the time to argue with Scar. Clearly this scare had jarred something in him, and I couldn't get to what that was until we were back in the secure office building.

We quickly moved to the back of the building, where Woody was waiting in an SUV. I sat in the seat and scooted over when Scar came in beside me. Then he looked at me, with his face hard and unyielding, and said, "Lie down."

"I'm not lying on the floor," I argued, unable to completely change my personality, just because Scar was acting so strangely.

"Fine," he responded, before grabbing my shoulders and pulling me down so that my head was in his lap and not on the floorboard.

_All right... Note__ to __self: Scar__ is really good at finding loopholes in my demands._

I gave up, realizing it was less than eight minutes to the office, and with the way Woody was driving, we might make it in half that time. I looked up at my new friend instead, and saw him glaring out the window, as though daring someone to try and hurt me now.

When we pulled into the parking lot of the garage, Woody hit the brake so hard, I thought for sure I would go flying forward, but Scar's grip on me tightened, keeping me safely across his lap. I knew he was returning back to the man I had gotten to know, when he leaned down and said, "I promised, no floorboards," and then opened the door to get out.

Upstairs, the group – minus Hal and Bones – reconvened in the conference room. I was between Ric and Scar and realized both of them were sitting close enough to me that we were touching. I assumed this was to reassure themselves that I was unharmed.

"What do we know?" Ranger barked out when the door was closed. No one seemed eager to respond, so he raised his voice even more. "Don't tell me a shot was made and between the seven people positioned around, we got nothing."

Tank went through the play by play of what happened, so that I was at least aware. By the time he finished talking, Hal and Bones had joined us, looking grim. When he finished, he invited the others to add to his report.

Lester spoke first. "The shot wasn't armor piercing, since it didn't make it all the way through the bulletproof glass. We can probably rule out top ranking military, or they would have come better equipped."

Hal jumped in then. "I had to leave the scene, because the Trenton PD forced us to go, saying we were compromising their investigation, but before we left, I was able to get some pictures and run a few angled scenarios to say that the shooter was probably a couple hundred yards away and up a couple of floors."

He turned his laptop around and said, "Somewhere in this building is my guess, but I'll need time to be more specific."

I made a mental note to pull up all the tenets in that building and see if I could come up with anything.

"And if I'm right about where Stephanie was sitting, if the glass hadn't been bulletproof, it would have been a direct hit – most likely in the chest area," Bones added, looking at his laptop, instead of the group.

"So military is back on the table," I said.

Lester shook his head. "Ballistics would say no."

I looked at Ram, the best sniper at RangeMan. "Would that have been a difficult shot for you?" I asked him.

He halfway smiled and answered, "Not now, but I've had a lot of experience."

"So just some average person, with no specialized sniper training, probably couldn't have done it?" I pushed.

"There are some people with natural talent, so I'd never say never, but to shoot from that far away, with the pressure of armed guards facing your location, and hit a one foot square area from that distance is much harder than it sounds. My guess is whoever fired the shot was highly trained. If it had been regular glass and they'd hit their mark, I would swear only someone with my background could be responsible." He gave me exactly what I wanted – confirmation that this was someone with a military background.

After another hour and a half of examining every thread of evidence and speculative comments, we were dismissed. I told Ric I was going to run checks into the properties in that building, instead of waiting for Hal to finish his angle analysis.

I would have told Scar, but since the noise at Vinnie's, he hadn't moved more than three feet away from me, so I knew he'd follow along regardless. I pulled up the building and started pulling information on the rentals within it, and while the system ran, I turned slightly in my chair and spoke quietly. "I know you're a private guy, and you don't talk much, but you know you're going to have to explain your reaction at the bonds office, right? I mean, this isn't the first time I've been shot at, and you didn't react like my bodyguards usually do."

There was a brief stare off between us that I won, when he let out a breath and sat back. All I had to do now was wait for him to get his thoughts together.

He pointed to his face and said, "I haven't always been like this."

I touched his chin and ran my finger over the scar there.

"I was in the army and committed the cardinal sin of falling in love with my commanding officer," he started.

Before I could get lost in the idea of Scar being gay, he kept going. "Melody was absolutely the most amazing woman I'd ever laid eyes on. In her fatigues, she could be tough, hard, calculating, and brilliant, but out of them, she was tender, gentle, and loving. The two sides were so perfectly balanced, I knew she was a one in a million kind of person, and I couldn't resist getting as close to her as possible."

I turned my chair a little more to see him better, encouraging him to keep talking.

"We were on a mission with four other people in the damn dregs of Central America, and it had been fucked up from day one. One night while I was on look out, we were discovered by some insurgents. I got off a single shot to warn my team we had been compromised, and then took off in the opposite direction of camp to draw them away from Mel and the guys."

I was worried about what he was going to say next.

"I knew by going off alone, I was more likely to be captured, and it only took them half a mile to ambush me and take me alive. Still, I went with them in the hope they would take me and leave my team alone, which meant Mel would live to fight another day."

I figured he was about to explain the mark on his face, so I put my hand on his to let him know it was all right.

"They wanted to know what I was doing in their jungle, and I refused to say a thing. They tried every kind of torture possible – including this," he said, with a gesture to the cruel mark on his face, "but I never broke and told them why we'd been sent to gather intel on them."

That seemed too easy, so I knew there was more to the story.

"After the third day, they brought in one of the guys from my team and put a gun to his head, threatening that if I didn't tell them what they wanted to know, they would shoot him. I made up some bogus story about being lost and coming up with a fictional mission, but they must have seen straight through me, because they pulled the trigger and shot him right in front of me."

He looked away for a minute and gathered himself for what I knew was probably the worst part. "That night, they untied me and moved me to a hut. A few hours later, the door opened, and they pushed Mel in with me. She'd been worked over pretty good, but like me, she hadn't given anything away. Apparently, they'd shot a couple of the guys in front of her, but she'd refused to break. I didn't know if we were the only ones left, or if someone had let on that we were involved."

He shut his eyes. "We stayed in the hut for what felt like forever, but it was probably less than twenty-four hours, when it sounded like the guards bugged out. We waited until darkness fell and realized we could escape through a window. After discussing it, we realized we would definitely die if we stayed there waiting, so breaking out was our only chance to make it. So, that's what we did. We were maybe fifty feet from the hut, when headlights from a jeep were turned on us, and a single shot rang out. I couldn't even process what had happened, it was so fast. Mel panicked and pulled a gun that I didn't even know she had, and the second shot from our captors was a direct hit to her temple. She dropped immediately, and I had to watch the life leave the only woman I'd ever loved."

He seemed to have that vacant expression of a person who wasn't fully present, so I stayed quiet and waited.

"Before they could move to capture me, a helicopter landed, and a team of Army Rangers descended, taking out the rest of the insurgents and rescuing me. Honestly, I stood there in the middle of the gunfire, not even bothering to defend myself. I just fell on top of Melody and held her, cursing God for not letting that chopper land ten minutes earlier, in order to have spared her life. Knowing she was gone and there would never be someone else like her, I didn't care if I made it or not."

I put my hand back on his arm, wanting him to know someone in the world was glad he made it.

"When I got back to the States, I had a lengthy hospital stay to work on my injuries, but there wasn't much they could do for my face. The doctor talked about getting a plastic surgeon to try to minimize the scar, but he doubted it could be completely removed. I didn't care; it wasn't like I planned on patrolling the bars, looking to pick up women."

He put his hand on top of mine, sandwiching me in his grasp.

"Ranger knew me and offered me a job when I got out of the VA in Boston, so I took it, figuring it would allow me to stay behind the scenes and do something with my time. But I vowed that I'd never allow myself to be in a situation like that again, where one person's life or death could so impact my own will to survive. It took a couple of years before I felt like each day wasn't a new torture just to wake up alone, and then the numbness took over, and I realized if I just shut everything down, it didn't hurt as much and most people would leave me alone."

I tightened my grip on him, and he spoke again. "Of course, when you don't care if you live or die, you tend to be a little bolder in what risks you'll take, which makes you a great bodyguard. So when Ranger needed the best shield possible to protect this girl in Trenton, he called me, and I was fine with a new challenge. I'd heard stories for a few years about this woman, who was beyond amazing and had become the heart of the operation down here. I was skeptical and decided to be an ass and walk right up to you and introduce myself, so you could be repulsed by my appearance and I'd have a reason to keep the distance between us."

I smiled when I thought back to when we first met. I'd been so rattled by Ranger, I hadn't been able to see all that well, and I'm not even entirely sure I'd focused on his face when he stepped in front of me, so I'd fallen back on my 'Burg upbringing and introduced myself to him.

"But you stuck your hand out and introduced yourself, without batting an eye. Then you thanked me for coming and asked if I wanted to work with you. I was so damned shocked that I couldn't say a word. I remember going to bed the first night, thinking you probably figured I was some mental incompetent that couldn't speak. It took me all of about thirty minutes sitting beside you to realize you were everything the guys had claimed, and then some. You might not have the same background as my Mel, but you had every bit as much of the spark."

Then he looked me in the eye to finish. "So for the first time since that jungle, I find myself in the position of caring whether or not someone lives or dies. Me, I don't care about, but you absolutely have to be kept safe. The world needs you in it."

I wondered briefly if he was beginning to confuse me with his dead girlfriend and developing some sort of emotional attachment that I needed to address.

"Plus, I see the way Ranger looks at you, and I know what he would have to endure if something happened to you. I can't let another human being go through what I did, and I know he would go through it, but I don't know that he'd make it through on the other side as well as I did. My heart is messed up, and I'm not entirely sure there's enough left to ever open it up to someone new, but there's still enough there to recognize that I like you, and I'd stop at nothing to keep you safe."

There was silence for a few minutes, and then he added, "Now, the boss more than likes you, which has him so distracted, he's not able to watch over you. Personally, I find it hilarious, because I remember him saying once that's why he'd never be in a relationship – because the emotional entanglement would make him lose his focus. That's why I'm sticking so close to you all the time. But today, when I heard that shot, I was back in that camp and I acted on reflex alone. I know I scared you, but there is a piece of me that has always believed if that had been my first reaction with Mel, she would have survived until the Rangers got there. I'm sorry that I tackled you and manhandled you. I know that it wasn't my place to be that demanding. Honestly, I'm shocked Ranger hasn't come over here and threatened to kick my ass if I ever touch you like that again."

I couldn't stop myself from laughing at that image. "I don't think that's going to happen," I assured him.

"Why not?" Scar asked, clearly thinking it would be appropriate.

It was then that I heard my favorite voice. "Because I'm too busy being grateful to you for keeping her safe to ever dream of threatening you. I heard the shot and busted out of Vinnie's office to see you on top of her, and I froze. If I'd been on her, I might have let her up when she started struggling, just to convince myself that she was unharmed, but you played it absolutely by the book and saved her life."

Ric put his hand out, and Scar dropped mine to bump his fist against it. They held them that way for a few minutes, neither talking, but clearly there was sort of silent communication going on.

They both smiled at the same moment, and I realized how fortunate I was to be surrounded by such handsome men, even if their ESP drove me nuts.

Ric leaned down, placed a kiss on my hair, and told me, "Take all the time you need, Babe. I'll be on seven, and Ella will bring us dinner whenever you're ready."

With that, he walked away, leaving me with my self-appointed protector.

Once he was out of earshot, I turned back to Scar and said, "After all this, I don't know how I'll make it after the stalker is resolved and you go back to Boston."

He glanced to the stairs that Ranger just disappeared through and said, "I don't think I'm going back."

"You want to stay in Trenton?" I asked, thrilled to think of him here all the time.

"I'd like to, but more importantly, I'm pretty sure that's what he just said," he added, not looking entirely convinced.

I hadn't heard any of that, so I guessed that was what all the staring was between them. I felt like we'd been through enough for one day, and I didn't want a sense of awkwardness to come between us in lieu of all he'd shared, so I stood up, gripped his face between my hands to get his attention, and said, "To hell with him. I want you here. Nobody else is brave enough to give me a sharp piece of metal and yell at me to lunge at them."

With that reference to our time training in the gym, he began to laugh and stood up to level our heights. He pulled me to him in a hug that was comfortable and warm, but nothing more than deep friendship.

When I walked away to meet Ric upstairs, I smiled, wondering how I was so fortunate to have been blessed with all the guys at RangeMan. And there was also that piece of my mind that began running through my friends, wondering if there wasn't someone that would make a great match for Scar. He might not be ready yet, claiming his heart wasn't capable of loving, but the moment he showed himself willing to sacrifice his life to save mine, he began to love again. Now, I just had to help him realize it.


	18. Small Clues Lead to Big Answers

_JE created the characters below, I'm just having a little fun at their expense._

_Jenny (JenRar) you are an amazing beta. Thank you for all the time you have spent with this story._

**Chapter 18 – Small Clues Lead to Big Answers**

_Ranger's POV_

"Are you listening to me man?" Tank asked for the second time in our ten minute meeting.

I ran my hand over my face and tried to make myself concentrate on the rotation in front of me. There is no way I could admit to being distracted by the idea of Stephanie in the gym right now, working on her sword handling skills with Scar. I had pulled up the feed and played it back with my door closed everyday, lusting after her like some kind of sick pervert. I tried to pawn it off as though I was just checking on her progress and watched the whole session out of pride for what she was accomplishing, but by the end, pride wasn't what was between my legs.

Realizing Tank was still waiting on a response, I replied, "Yeah, I got it. We'll use the new rotation and see if we have any better luck." I didn't know what he was proposing specifically, just that maybe by mixing in some of the guys not as familiar with the case, they might have fresh enough eyes to see something we were missing when we went out trying to get the attention of the stalker.

He stood up and chuckled when he got to the door. "I never thought I'd see the day that you were so far gone over a girl, you couldn't handle a ten minute meeting with me."

I should have called him on his assumption, but instead, I just smiled. "What can I say, man. You don't look as good in a skirt."

Tank was wise enough to leave without another word, shutting the door behind him. I decided I'd waited long enough and brought up the camera feed from the gym to check up on Stephanie's progress this morning. I found her just as she blocked an advance from Scar, and then spun around to lunge at him offensively. He stopped her advance, but the shock was apparent on his face. I could see them laughing together, and touched the monitor, as though I could somehow pull the curls away from her cheek that had plastered themselves there during her workout.

I could see them talking and knew Scar was giving her more pointers, recapping their time together. I hadn't spoken to him again since the day the stalker had tried to shoot Stephanie, but I wanted him to stay in Trenton, even after this threat had been neutralized. He would make an ideal partner for her, and I'd be able to relax and let her work in the field, knowing he had her back.

Before I could pat myself on the back for my foresight, Stephanie's face fell, and I realized Jeanne Ellen had entered the gym and was approaching where they were seated at the side. Scar exchanged words with her, but the look on Stephanie's face told me she wasn't engaged at all in what was being discussed around her.

Jeanne Ellen started to walk away, but Stephanie shocked me by calling her back and saying something. Whatever fast response she gave amused Steph. There wasn't a smile on her face, but even on a black and white screen, I could see the sparkle in her eyes. A wise man would probably fear her expression, but I was excited to see what she was cooking up at Jeanne Ellen's expense.

Having snooped enough on the woman I loved, I turned back to the performance reviews I'd been putting off, until the door to my office opened abruptly. I looked up, hoping to see Stephanie's smiling face, only to see a very pissed off Jeanne Ellen instead.

"I don't mean to tell you how to run your business," she began, warning me that was the very thing she was about to do. "But you have enough things on your plate right now to waste time on background checks into me. I'm on the payroll. I think it's a little late to look into my history," she ranted.

A gut feeling is a strange thing. Few people have spent enough time in life or death situations to develop a trust of that first response that I have. Right now, even though I knew I hadn't requested a background check on Jeanne Ellen, nor was there a legitimate reason for RangeMan to run one, that I needed to play along.

"My company, my policy, my business," I told her, looking back down at the review in front of me, hoping she'd take the hint.

"Company policy is to run a credit check and verify the current information annually. I know this was done six months ago, and what you're running now is a hell of a lot more invasive than just updating the data on file," she rebutted.

"You're sounding defensive. Is there something you need to tell me?" I wondered.

She made a face, and then pulled herself together to get to the point. "I know you let her pretend to earn her keep here by running searches, but if you are too whipped to tell her she is overstepping her bounds, then I'll do it. I'm not the least bit afraid of hurting her feelings."

"Stephanie's emotions are the last thing you need to be afraid of at this moment. You have until the end of the day to pack your shit and get out of my building. We've worked together for a lot of years, but if you think that gives you the right to come in here and order me around, you've misjudged our working relationship," I corrected her firmly.

With a sneer, she responded, "I thought you would at least respect the fact that I am the only person here who is brave enough to tell you the truth about the drain she is to your company. If you are going to shoot the messenger, then I'll quit wasting my time."

I refused to ask her what group she thought she was representing, as I didn't want her to think I cared. I knew my men, and I knew they didn't think of Stephanie as a drain. To justify that low blow with a comment would give some sort of satisfaction to Jeanne Ellen, and I refused to allow that. Instead, I got up and walked out, leaving the building completely. I'd given her a timeline to be out by the close of the day and knew there was enough military training in her that my order would be followed.

I needed to step away before I blew up and said something I would later come to regret. I got in my Turbo and drove around for awhile, trying to find the zone I could usually easily slip into. Today, my mind was awash, going from one thought to another with no break in between for me to fully think through anything.

I needed to get it together and do it now. Driving around like this wasn't accomplishing anything. I flipped open my cell phone and hit the number two in my speed dial. At Tank's answer, I told him, "I need you to keep a hidden eye on Jeanne Ellen. I've given her to the end of the day to get out of the building. I don't expect any trouble, but something's not right with her, and I want to be sure someone is watching her."

"Got it, boss," he replied succinctly. "Anything else?"

"Try and get a message to Scar to stay close to Stephanie. I doubt he'll leave her, but until Jeanne Ellen is gone, I think even in the building, she needs protection. Something has gone down between those two," I told him.

"I'll text Scar and tell him that until you are back, he needs to stick to Steph like glue," Tank summarized.

I didn't hang up right away, which gave Tank time enough to say, "You going to tell me why you're driving around alone?"

"Just needed to do some thinking," I replied honestly.

"Fair enough, but you don't have anybody with you, so you need to be sure your target keeps moving, all right?" he advised.

"Yes sir," I replied, before hanging up. Leave it to Tank to remind me if I stopped, I was in danger. Since the shots were fired at Vinnie's, I'd been focused on Stephanie's safety, but the fact remained, the stalker was threatening me, too. Going off on my own with no one as back up was probably not the smartest thing I'd ever done. Damn, I probably owed Steph an apology for coming down on her for doing the same thing without letting me know.

I used the next half hour to drive down the highway and clear my head. Finally, I felt myself relaxing into my zone, so I took the next exit and reversed direction to head back to Trenton.

I'd only driven a mile when my cell phone rang, and I answered it with a quick, "Yo."

"Ric," Stephanie's musical voice range through the earpiece.

"Babe," I responded, inviting her to tell me why she called and feeling a sense of calm come over me, just from the connection via the phone line.

"I might have overstepped a line, but I had a feeling something wasn't right, so I did some digging, and I found something you need to take a look at," she said in a very coded way.

"Where are you?" I asked, wondering if this conversation needed to happen out of the building.

"I'm at my desk. I'd go upstairs, but Scar seems to think he's a magnet and the metal of my jewelry is enough for him to stick to," she explained, trying to sound annoyed by her shadow, but amusement was coming through as well. Obviously, Tank had gotten a message to him.

"I'm about thirty minutes out. Can you tell me what you found over the phone, or is this a conversation that needs to happen in person?" I wanted to know what she'd discovered. I knew her, and she wouldn't have called if it wasn't something big.

There was a long pause, where she made a sound of indecision, before asking, "Is it all right if I go in your office and shut the door to talk to you? It's really public out here, and I don't think what I need to say should be heard by everyone."

"Babe," I replied, hoping she understood there was no place in my life she wasn't welcome. Then I felt my face break into a smile at the fact that despite our relationship, Stephanie didn't assume to have free reign in my life and just barge in to take over. It was that very trait that made me want to give her more access.

Her voice interrupted my thoughts, as she said, "Don't give me that. You're a private guy, and I know I don't understand half of what happens here, so I didn't want you to think I was snooping or getting into stuff I shouldn't see." I could hear her moving as she complained, though, so I knew she was relocating so we could talk.

"There is nothing in that office that you can't see. Some of it is confidential, but I trust you completely," I assured her.

I heard her sigh and felt that school boy grin light up my face once more. "Now, what do you have to report?" I asked, trying to sound like I was asking any of the guys, but unable to treat her as firmly as I would anyone else.

"Today, Jeanne Ellen came in the gym," she began, telling me what I'd already seen. "I noticed she didn't have a band aid on her hand anymore, and the mark between her thumb and forefinger was really familiar looking."

"She's got marks all over," I interjected. "Her last mission included her being too close when an explosion went off, and she took some shrapnel in multiple places."

"I know about that, but those scars have closed and are on their way to healing over completely, but the band aid was covering a fresh wound. It was small—just two little cuts on the top and bottom of that tender tissue. I asked if something bit her, because the location and shape was perfect for it, and she blew me off, saying she had a little infection there, but it was nothing she couldn't handle."

I didn't know where Stephanie was going with this, but I was willing to hear her out. "What did you think it was?" I asked to keep her talking.

"It looked exactly the same way as Mary Alice's hand did last summer when she was looking after Rex for me and tried to pick him up and he bit her hand. She ran outside, proud of her little scar, and played, allowing dirt to get in and a small infection to set in. I swear, it looked just like she'd been bitten by a hamster," Steph said.

"Jeanne Ellen doesn't hit me as the type to keep a small furry animal as a pet," I commented dryly.

"Me, neither, so I went back to my desk and ran a check on her," Stephanie confessed.

At least I knew what had Jeanne Ellen so worked up. "What did you find?" I wondered, knowing she wouldn't have called me if everything had come up clean.

"At first, everything just looked perfect and clean, but the thought of a hamster biting her and remembering the way Rex's hair looked in that envelope was enough to make me dig a little further, and that's when things started to unravel," she stated.

"Unravel how?" I pushed, feeling my foot automatically hit the gas a little harder to get home faster.

"Do you remember the checks I ran on the people who had access to a view of the roof of RangeMan?" she prompted me.

"Sure—an artist who was in England, Joyce's cousin who is a drunk, and Alan Burrows, who as far as we can tell doesn't exist," I said, summing up the dead ends we'd come to there. We'd all thought it was strange that that name was the same as Jeanne Ellen's, but an uncommon last name wasn't enough to tie them together.

"Right," she said in response to my recall. "But did you know that Emma Barnhardt was a real estate agent? Apparently, she's sober enough to do good business, because her bank account is pretty full most of the time."

I was confused about how we'd gotten to Joyce's cousin, after talking about Jeanne Ellen and hamster bites. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Hear me out," she shushed me.

I smiled at the fact that very few people had the courage to interrupt me and insist that I let them talk.

"I was digging into Alan's apartment and knew that the landlord didn't have a visual to go with the name, but I knew someone must have shown him the space at some point, so I called back and found out that he'd used a real estate agency. When I called the agency, they said the realtor for that property was Emma Barnhardt," she told me.

"But the property is close to where Emma lives... It would make sense that she would be the one to show it," I said, trying to point out that this might just be coincidence.

"I'm not done yet," she insisted, once again telling me to keep my mouth shut so she could finish. "So I had Scar call Emma and ask about Alan, and she was totally confused."

"Not surprising, given how much she drinks," I reminded her.

"This would be so much easier if you were here in person so that I could tape your mouth shut," she threatened me.

I thought I heard laughter in the background that must have come from Scar, but I decided not to mention it just now. Clearly, I was not getting something that she wanted me to.

"The reason she was confused was because she said she had shown the property to an _Allie_ Burrows—a woman, not a man. She said she did two walkthroughs of the apartment, and the only two details Allie was interested in were the view from the windows, and the air conditioning ventilation system. She even demanded a copy of the HVAC plan to see where the vents were positioned."

I'll admit that was odd, but decided not to say anything so that she didn't get frustrated with the interruptions.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" she asked suddenly.

"I was trying to listen without interrupting, like you told me to," I found myself responding defensively. Hell, Hector better not be recording this conversation to use as evidence that a little white girl from the 'Burg made me defensive.

"Well, say something from time to time so I know you haven't fallen asleep," she instructed.

"Of course. I'm awake, please continue," I said as politely as possible, making her giggle. I stretched back in the seat, trying to readjust myself from the instant effect that schoolgirl giggle had on my body.

"So I ran a check on Allie Burrows and found that she was a cousin of Jeanne Ellen. The picture I found online was almost like looking at a mirror image of Jeanne Ellen. The catch is that Allie died four years ago from leukemia, so it is more likely that Emma took _Jeanne Ellen_ on a tour of the building."

There was a pause, so I figured this was one of those moments that I needed to confirm I was still awake.

"I'm still with you. Do you have anything else?" I wondered. Although my gut was following everything she said, my head was demanding something a little more concrete.

"Well…" This time when she stopped, I got the impression she didn't want to tell me something.

"Spill it," I commanded, smiling that my voice took on its usual tone, and grateful that she couldn't see my face, because she'd know I was just playing with her.

"I used the system like Hector showed me to look into Jeanne Ellen's military assignments and found out that she had two US sponsored aliases: Janice Alan, and Alan Burrows. Neither of them are very creative names, but I still find it more than a little coincidental that one of them matches the name on the lease."

I couldn't agree with her more.

"Plus, a year ago, Janice Alan spent a couple of months in the VA in Trenton being treated for an undisclosed psychiatric condition."

"I'm proud of you, Babe," I told her, knowing she was onto something. Even if this wasn't in any way related to my stalker, she'd still uncovered something that explained the odd behavior Jeanne Ellen had been exhibiting. Of course, my gut told me Steph had discovered the identity of the stalker, but we still needed concrete proof.

"I gave Jeanne Ellen until the end of the day to get out of RangeMan, and I had Tank assign a hidden eye to monitor her until she leaves. I want you to stick close to Scar until Tank gives us the all clear that she is out of RangeMan," I instructed, suddenly panicking that I was so far away and Steph could be in danger.

"What!" Steph sounded incredulous. "You can't let her leave! With the skills Jeanne Ellen has, she'll disappear, and then the danger will be even more pronounced. We've got to keep her here until we get the final piece of evidence that she's the stalker."

"Now that we know to suspect her, it will be easier to trace her movements. I mean, Jeanne Ellen is good, but she isn't better than me. If I know what to look for, there is nowhere she can hide," I tried to assure her.

"But why risk it? I think there is a better way to get the truth from her," Stephanie suggested.

"Babe, Jeanne Ellen isn't going to give up her secrets just because we ask. She's conditioned to withstand torture and most of our persuasive techniques," I tried to warn her. Unfortunately, locking her up in a room in the basement wasn't going to get the results she hoped.

"Then you need to do something she hasn't been trained to handle," Stephanie stated, making my heart fall into my stomach.

"Like what?" I asked, already knowing I wasn't going to like the answer.

"Let me have a few minutes alone with her."

I was right; I hated that answer.

"Absolutely not," I blurted out, knowing Stephanie hated being told what to do. "You can't be alone with her. Just wait for me in my office, and I'll be there in ten minutes. We can try talking to her together." Hopefully, she'd see I wasn't trying to force her into something, that I was just worried about protecting her.

"You can't be there for this conversation—it would never work—but I think you're right about me not doing it alone." The cryptic tone was back, and I noticed the speedometer was now consistently hitting over a hundred miles and hour.

"Just wait until I get there, and we can come up with a plan for what might work," I pleaded. Since when did I plead for anything?

"No, now that I think about it, you shouldn't even be in the building. Scar and I are going to have a little chat with Jeanne Ellen right now. Hopefully, by the time you're here, I'll have something more concrete for you," she said, as though she hadn't heard a word I'd said.

"Wait, Stephanie!" I tried using her whole name, in the hope it would get her attention.

"I love you, Ric, and we'll talk when you get back," she said, before hanging up.

The zone I had worked so hard to find was now completely gone once more. My mind didn't know whether to focus on the fact that Stephanie was hell bent on getting herself hurt, or contingency plans for keeping her safe within the building. I picked up the phone and called Tank again.

"Stephanie is planning on doing something rash to see if Jeanne Ellen is the stalker," I told him as soon as he picked up. We spent the next few moments going over how he could try to minimize the risk, without getting in the way of whatever idea she had cooked up.

When we finished, he hung up and I was left traveling the last two miles with my cell phone in my hand. Two conversations in a row had ended with people hanging up on me. I'd never hesitated to do it in the past, but now that I was on the receiving end, I realized I didn't like it. If I weren't so damned worried about what Stephanie was doing right now I might be interested in working on another discipline session to help her remember not to do that again.


	19. Action Sequence Anyone?

_The characters below are all from the creative genius of JE, not me._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you for all you've done as the beta on this story, but on this chapter in particular, thank you for not being afraid to push a little for me to work a little harder._

**Chapter 19 – Action Sequence Anyone?**

_Stephanie's POV_

I'd hung up on Ric. Even worse, I'd just hung up on Ranger, because I knew he didn't want me to talk to Jeanne Ellen and I didn't want him to try to persuade me not to do what I knew had to be done.

I held the cell phone to my mouth for a moment, and then looked at Scar, whose blank face was giving nothing away.

"I am going to do something slightly dangerous that nobody will approve of," I told him bluntly.

He watched me for a moment, and then endeared himself to me even deeper by asking, "How do I help?"

"We are going to talk to Jeanne Ellen and see if we can't flush out some details to finally connect the dots that will prove she is the one behind all the stalker crap with Ric," I told him, watching to see any sign that he was not up for a direct confrontation.

"I don't think she'll just spill because you asked," he warned me. "I mean, I don't even think she likes you."

I thought his last line was too funny. The Merry Men were masters of the understatement. In truth, Jeanne Ellen hated me, but now was not the time to debate semantics.

"We need to give her a reason to suddenly see me as a tool she can manipulate."

"What?" Clearly Scar wasn't well trained in female manipulation.

"I am going to ask for her help with Ric, because I'm in over my head with two men, and now that I've made up my mind which one I want, I don't know how to break it off with the other," I explained.

"But everybody knows you and the cop are done for good. She isn't going to believe you need help breaking it off with him," he tried to point out.

"Wrong group of guys," I corrected. "I want her to think I have decided I want you, instead of Ric."

I'd never seen Scar's eyes get that big before. "I can't pose as your love interest. She'll never buy it, and Ranger will have my balls if I touch you."

"Ranger isn't in the building, and she'll believe it if you follow my lead. We don't have to hang all over each other, but just a few simple touches is sometimes all it takes to communicate a great deal of emotion," I instructed.

He shook his head, as though he couldn't believe what I was asking him to do. I could have sworn he repeated something about the mats and regretting this, but God bless him, he stood up and held out his hand, inviting me to lead the way.

We went into Tank's office, and I found out Jeanne Ellen was in her apartment on four, supposedly packing to leave, per Ranger's orders.

"What are you up to?" Tank asked after answering my question.

I decided to bypass that so he could claim ignorance if things didn't go smoothly downstairs. Instead, I decided to try out the idea of covering myself, since Ric seemed to appreciate it when I went to Sally's. "Do you have a microphone like I wear on distractions?"

He opened a desk drawer and pulled out one of the tiny wires I had worn so often. Then, he hesitated, as though he wasn't sure what I expected him to do with it.

"Relax," I assured him. "I can handle putting it on myself."

The descent of his shoulders was immediate, and I realized he was worried about having to touch me. Honestly, he was more than twice my weight; why was he worked up over the idea of his fingers coming into contact with my skin? I couldn't possibly do anything to hurt him.

I turned around and slipped it into my bra, marveling at how much easier it was to conceal when I was fully clothed, instead of hanging out of a distraction outfit like I usually was.

"You'll be listening?" I asked, as the first wave of nerves hit me with what I was about to do. I mean, there was stepping up to face your fears, and then there was rushing in where angels feared to tread. I was hoping this didn't fall into the foolish category.

"I'll pull it up here, and I'll have Santos and Brown listening in from his apartment on four. It's two doors down from hers, so he can be there immediately if things turn sour," Tank assured me, picking up the phone to hand out instructions.

Just before we reached the door, he told someone to hold on and lowered the receiver from his face to tell Scar, "Do I need to tell you how important it is to everyone here that you do your job and keep her safe?"

I was about to set Tank straight about what he was implying, but Scar beat me to it.

"I'll protect her, but not for the guys in the office or a damn paycheck."

A couple of silent nods later, and we were on our way to apartment 4E. I knocked twice and waited. Scar had been silent since we left Tank's office, and he was hanging back, probably wishing I would come up with another plan that didn't involve him having to pose as a romantic interest with me.

"Relax," I told him, wishing my heart would take the advice as well. If I couldn't calm down, I'd have a heart attack before she opened the door.

No sooner had I thought that, then the door in front of me was jerked open and a scowling Jeanne Ellen greeted us. "What in the hell do you want?"

I looked both ways down the hallway, like I was trying to avoid being seen, and then replied, "I need to talk to you. I need some help, and something tells me you might have a solution for my problem."

Her eyes narrowed as she assessed me in silence. Finally, she stepped back and pointed to the sofa. "This better be good. I'm in the middle of packing."

As soon as she shut the door, I started to find all the holes in my plan. This was why people didn't like it when I just flew by the seat of my pants. Scar must have noticed my sudden indecision, because he put his hand on my lower back. It was a simple gesture, but it shook me from my temporary paralysis, and from the look on Jeanne Ellen's face, she'd definitely noticed the contact.

We moved to sit together on the couch, and once she was settled, I hoped she couldn't see through the load of crap I was about to throw at her.

"You know that Ranger and I have been posing as a couple to help lure out his stalker, right?" I began.

"Are you trying to waste my time or rub my nose in something?" she responded bitterly.

"Neither," I quickly replied. "But in the midst of our posing as a couple, I think he began to assume reality and the assignment were fusing into the same thing."

Her expression shifted at the idea that I might not have the feelings for Ric that he held for me. "At the same time, he brought in Scar to protect me, and we've been spending all this time together in the gym, at my desk, basically every moment except at night, when I have to go up to seven for appearances sake."

Oh yeah, she was definitely interested in what I was selling. I reached back and took Scar's hand in mine. We threaded our fingers together, as though it was something we did all the time, but I was struck that it didn't hold the same comfort for me that it did when I looked down and saw the contrasting tones of my hand against Ric's.

"Anyway..." I stopped my errant thoughts to get back on track. "I can't keep up this split anymore, and I need to tell Ranger that I have feelings for Scar that I want a chance to explore, but I don't know how to do that without him blowing up and taking it out on one of us."

She smiled, like I was a young child. "Stephanie, you know he has more control than that. Besides, you're assuming he even wants you."

"He said he did," I baited her. "He told me that he was close to catching the stalker, and once that was over, he was going to talk about marriage."

She wasn't biting the way I wanted her to, so I added, "He wants to bring me into the core team so that I'm an equal partner here at RangeMan."

That did it. Everything she was feeling was clearly on display right now. I added a little more fuel to the fire and said, "But I'm not qualified for that. I don't even want to be on the core team. I mean, doing work at a computer is fine, but honestly, I spend more time surfing the internet than I do anything else."

Jeanne Ellen leaned back in her chair in thought for a moment. I let her stew, wondering what she would come up with and hoping it would be something I could use.

She jerked up and said, "What do need me for? It sounds like all you need to do is tell Ranger the truth, and then leave."

"I did tell him that I wasn't interested in being a partner in RangeMan, and then the two of you had a conversation, and the next thing I know, he's storming out of the building and hasn't come back yet." I gave her a little more rope, hoping she would do the heavy lifting and hang herself.

"So that's why he was so defensive," she said to herself, as though me rejecting him was the only possible explanation for why he told her to leave the building.

"Look, Ranger and I shared some kisses and some contact to draw out the stalker, but there was no spark there. You understand being covert and planning stuff, and you know Ranger a lot better than I do," I lied. "What can I do to make it clear to him that there is no future between us?"

Another stretch of silence followed, before I saw her face light up. "When Ranger gets back, you need to let him see you two together."

"He sees us together all day, every day. I don't understand what difference that will make," I said, as if questioning her.

"No, not working side by side, but doing something to show him that you want _this_," she said in disbelief, with a gesture to Scar.

That got my defensive brackles up, and the trace of fear that had been running through my system completely disappeared.

I tightened my grip on Scar's hand and leaned into him slightly. "I do want Scar. I can't imagine a day without seeing him. He gets me, and I need that," I said honestly.

"Then put yourself somewhere he can't miss you, and when he looks your way, kiss the shit out of that face. Trust me, a guy like Ranger would be very possessive if he thinks something is his. He will get the message and back off in order to save his pride."

I felt the need to get her on my side a little more. So far, everything she'd said was putting all the risk on me. "It's just that I don't understand so much of what he does, and he can't tell me anything about his past, and I need to have that kind of connection. Ranger just wants something physical, but monogamous. It's not enough for me."

That did it. "People like me and Ranger are different from people like you. We can't do all that emotional stuff, but we need the physical release from time to time. Don't beat yourself up that you can't handle what he needs. There are few women that could."

"Could you?" I tried to make myself sound uncertain and hesitant, instead of accusatory.

She smiled with an expression of pure evil. "Absolutely. In fact, I think I know the perfect way to make this work for everyone involved."

"How?" I moved to the edge of the sofa to appear more eager.

"Let's talk to Ranger together—just you and me. You can explain your attraction to _that_,"—she stressed the word that again, in reference to Scar—"and the fact that you don't want what Ranger is trying to force on you. Then I'll help him to see that I can handle being both a partner in his business, and in his bed."

She was closer to what I wanted her to say, but still not quite there.

"How will you help him to see that?" I wondered.

"I can solve the whole stalker mystery for him," she bragged.

"But no one knows who it is," I pointed out, trying to force her hand.

She grinned again. "I do."

"Then why didn't you say anything? If there is no stalker, then there is no reason for me to stay at RangeMan, so Scar and I can be together!" I was pushing my luck and I knew it, but I had to get her to show me that final ace up her sleeve.

"Because it's not enough for me to just tell who the stalker is, but there are some other things that are important—like how they have evaded being discovered for so long. He needs my skills, and once I point all of that out, it will be crystal clear," she gloated.

"Can you just reveal it to him as a distraction while Scar and I leave the building?" I asked.

"No, you have to remove yourself as an interest for him. I don't understand it, but he has fixated on you. You're his Achilles heel, and until you are out of the picture, he won't see reason. We do it together, or I'm leaving with the information I have with me," she said, calling my bluff.

"Wait," Scar interrupted. "I'm coming, too."

"This doesn't concern you," she coolly bit back.

"I don't trust you," he informed her. "Where Steph goes, I go."

She chuckled, "Trust me. If I wanted to hurt the precious Bombshell Bounty Hunter, she'd be dead. I've had plenty of opportunities, and she's still pulling in air. You aren't going to be a part of this conversation."

"You haven't had jack. I've shadowed her and kept her out of harm's way. You never had a chance at Stephanie," Scar corrected her.

I couldn't understand why was pushing her, but I did notice a little vein begin to stand out on her neck, the way Joe's used to when he was struggling to hold his temper back and not explode.

"Listen here... I don't know where you get off assuming your skills are the reason she's not dead, but trust me when I tell you, if I wanted her out of the picture, she would be," Jeanne Ellen asserted once more.

Scar paused, before squeezing my hand in a gesture I assumed meant for me to trust him, but his words were counter to that goal. "Prove it," he said, throwing down a challenge. "Give me one instance when you could have gotten to Steph without me preventing it. You just aren't that good."

Yep, she was reminding me of Joe in more ways than one now. That single vein in the neck was expanding to a tightly held fist and a face like a cherry tomato.

"I had the choice at the bonds office, and I used a standard issue slug, instead of the armor piercing ones I keep on me all the time. If I'd wanted her dead, something as simple as a different caliber bullet would have done it. If I remember correctly, that shot was on target, dead center of her chest. Her life was in my hands to take or not, and you knocking her to the floor after the sound of the impact on the glass wouldn't have changed the outcome; it just would have put her blood on your shirt."

Bingo. Scar had gotten her to admit that at the very least, she was the shooter at Vinnie's.

"That was a one off, and we've been more careful since then," Scar said, continuing to challenge her.

"Men!" Jeanne Ellen yelled, losing the fragile grip she was holding it together with. "I could have used a gun, instead of a camera, for weeks now. Or I could have pushed that detonator at Shorty's just thirty seconds sooner and taken you both out. Why is it so hard to admit that you have been beaten by a girl?"

"Because we haven't been beaten," he said, matching her tone with his own, frightening me slightly. "She's still living. Just because you had the opportunity proves nothing. It just means you could have done it, but didn't have the guts to follow through."

What in the hell was he doing? I was all for baiting her, but we had the admission we needed. Now was not the time to trigger some kind of crazy woman breakdown. She was between us and the door. The outfit she was sporting was revealing enough, I didn't think she had any weapons on her, but it was hard to picture someone like her being completely unarmed, so I had to assume she was good at tucking things away.

The kitchen was to the side of where we were sitting in the living room, so if I had to, I could make it in there if this went any further to hell. Of course, what I was going to do to protect myself in the kitchen was a mystery. I wouldn't fit in the fridge, and the only weapon I could see was a short broom and dustpan combo, leaning in the corner. Unless she started throwing dust bunnies I didn't think that would be much help.

I snapped out of my haze in time to hear Jeanne Ellen say, "Didn't have the guts? You idiot! I didn't kill her because I knew it would upset Ranger, and I didn't want to have to wait for him to grieve her useless life. The point was, I proved I could evade him indefinitely, which means I'm better at the cat and mouse game. He needed to give her up on his own in order to show he deserved a chance with me. Taking her out of the picture got rid of the challenge. He needed to remove her himself."

"Not likely," Scar challenged once more.

"Okay," I spoke up, hoping to defuse the situation before Jeanne Ellen decided to prove she had the balls for killing and shot me right now. "I think she's proven that she has skills nobody recognized. Now we just need to bring this to Ranger and see what he wants to do. He has a decision to make, and I think he needs to have all the facts to work with."

She calmed down slightly at my words, hopefully seeing the wisdom in them. "When will he return?" she asked me, while glaring at Scar.

"I can call upstairs to see if he's here now," I offered.

She inclined her head to the kitchen and said, "Use that phone."

I was grateful to be able to step away from the battle of the stares going on between those two, and dialed the internal extension for Ric's office.

"Yo," his familiar voice answered, sounding stressed. I knew he'd heard every word.

"Hi, Ranger." I tried to go for carefree and casual, but I knew he wasn't fooled for a moment. "Jeanne Ellen and I need to talk to you. Do you have a few minutes for us to come up now?"

"I'm in my office," he replied in a strained voice before adding, "And be sure Scar is with you."

"Okay, we'll be right there," I promised in a fake, upbeat voice, before hanging up.

Scar and Jeanne Ellen were getting into a whispered pissing match, and out of reflex, I moved to the corner and began a desperate search for anything I could use to break them apart if necessary. Behind the cleaning supplies I'd noticed earlier was a two inch in diameter metal pole that was perhaps four feet long that a lot of the guys had mounted in a doorway for doing pull-ups. It wasn't much, but it was roughly the size of the sword I'd been working with, only without a sharp edge. I might not be able to slice and dice, but I knew I could still do some damage if I had to.

In the meantime, I could tell that Jeanne Ellen was adamant that she and I go to Ranger's office alone, and Scar was insisting the exact opposite. For whatever reason, despite her confession, Scar didn't trust Jeanne Ellen to walk up one flight of stairs with me unless he was with us.

I took some silent steps back to the living room still catching portions of their conversation, where Scar was pushing Jeanne Ellen that she had nothing on me, and that even if she'd killed me, Ranger would never have turned to her for comfort. She didn't understand the attraction, and Scar continued to belittle her. It was almost like he wanted her to erupt now and not risk her doing it on the way up to the fifth floor.

When he said, "She has skills you'll never understand and could never handle," I saw a switch in her move from argumentative to action.

In the movies, a good director would probably have gone from real time to ultra slow motion at this point, but in real life, we don't have that option. Instead, in the course of less than three seconds, Jeanne Ellen reached behind her and pulled out the tiniest little gun I'd even seen from her waist. Scar pulled a Smith and Wesson .38 from his thigh, like a cowboy in an old western. I lifted my sturdy metal bar and charged at Jeanne Ellen, bringing back my form as a high school softball star.

Two guns went off at the precise moment my weapon made contact with her head, and then…there was only silence.


	20. Case Closed

_The characters below are from JE's creativity, not mine._

_Jen (JenRar) you are an incredible beta and I am so grateful that you allowed me to draft you into working with me._

**Chapter 20 – Case Closed**

_Ranger's POV_

"Yo," I said, already aware of who was calling before I'd answered the phone. It was all I could do to hold the phone without cracking it from the stress of listening to Stephanie and Scar bait Jeanne Ellen into confessing that she had been my stalker for the last few months.

"Hi, Ranger," she said, trying to make her voice sound happy. I could tell she knew I could hear the stress cutting through the phone from the moment I answered. "Jeanne Ellen and I need to talk to you. Do you have a few minutes for us to come up now?"

"I'm in my office," I replied simply. My free hand was rubbing over the handle of sig and itching to pull it out and get rid of the bitch who had dared to tempt fate by shooting at Stephanie to scare me. I came to my senses in time to tell her not to come up without Scar.

"Okay, we'll be right there," she promised in her falsely upbeat voice, before hanging up.

Thank God I'd been listening in on the wire, or I wouldn't have been prepared for how royally screwed up this whole situation was.

I could hear low voices and knew that Scar and Jeanne Ellen were still arguing in the background, but Stephanie was too far away for her mic to pick it up with any clarity. I knew Stephanie was confused about the way Scar was pushing the mad woman in the room with them, but I knew exactly what he was doing.

There was no way he trusted Jeanne Ellen to come up to my office alone with Stephanie. She was a loose cannon right now and capable of anything, so the two minutes alone in the stairwell would be plenty of time for a gun to be used. Scar wanted Jeanne Ellen's fury directed at him, and not Stephanie. By goading her like this, if she snapped and lashed out, it would be at him. I wasn't usually a fan of martyr ploys, but if it kept Stephanie safe, I was all for it this time.

The voices grew louder in time for me to hear Scar say, "She has skills you'll never understand and could never handle."

Even without having a visual to go with the audio, I knew that was probably the final straw, and I stood up so quickly, my desk chair fell over behind me.

Even with that commotion, the sound that came through the small speakers hooked to my computer was unmistakable. Two guns fired, and there was a dull thud that sounded like something solid was smacked into flesh. I froze listening for something – anything – that might tell me what had just happened and who was hurt. As the seconds stretched on in silence, I managed to make my boots move, and I threw open my door to join the herd of men running for the stairs.

I didn't know how many of them were listening in on the feed, but all of them were trained to react to gunfire, and having that happen one floor below required everyone to respond. It was Tank's voice and not my own that called out, "Enough!" That made the group stop so he and I could cut through and get to the door to exit the stairwell and enter the fourth floor.

The apartment door was open, as was the unit two doors down, which told me Santos and Brown had already responded to the sound. At least the company medic was there for whatever the outcome was.

I don't know if it's possible to keep functioning when your heart stops, but that is sure as hell what it felt like I was doing. The involuntary reflex to breathe had left my body, and I had to force myself to draw in air. The ache in my chest certainly felt like my heart wasn't beating, either.

I turned the corner and walked into a gruesome scene that flooded me with relief. Lying on the floor in a pool of blood was Jeanne Ellen. Bobby was completely ignoring her, which told me she was already dead. Strangely, the gunshot wound was to the shoulder, which couldn't have killed her. But the side of her head that had come into contact with a metal pipe on the floor probably explained the puddle and the cause of death.

I took all that in with a cursory glance. It might seem unfeeling of me, but there was no remorse to be found for the loss of Jeanne Ellen. She had threatened me, which would have meant spending time behind bars, but the day she turned that scope on Stephanie and threatened her meant the end of her ability to walk this earth. It wouldn't have been the first time I'd killed someone for threatening Steph, and I doubted it would have been the last.

To the right of Jeanne Ellen's body, Bobby was trying to give attention to Scar, who seemed to have a hole in his shoulder from the slug Lester was currently pulling from the wall behind him. No matter what he said, Bobby couldn't get to Scar, because he and Stephanie were holding on to each other as though their lives depended on it.

Normally, I wouldn't tolerate anyone holding my woman like that if I was around, but even I could see they both needed the reassurance that they'd survived. I waited, knowing they would come back to reality soon; sure enough, when Steph took a stuttering breath, Scar relaxed his grip and pulled back to look at her. Some of the blood from his injury had soaked onto the top of her shirt, and when he saw it, he panicked slightly and tried to move her shirt to see the extent of her wound.

"I'm okay. It's not my blood," she assured him, but the glassy, wild eyes that continued to canvas her told me he wasn't getting the message.

I moved over, pulled Stephanie away from him, and used the "commander" voice that I knew would get through. "You did good, Scar. Steph is safe. Now turn to Bobby so he can take a look at that shoulder."

His feet moved from the command alone, before he turned back and shook his head. "No, Stephanie first…blood…" He wasn't getting his thoughts together, but I knew what he'd meant.

I undid the top two buttons on Stephanie's shirt and stretched the neck out to put one of her creamy shoulders on display. "The blood's not hers, man. It's from you. She's not got a scratch on her."

Bobby put a hand on Scar and led him to the coffee table behind them to sit, so he could take a look at the shoulder wound to assess whether a trip to St. Francis was in order. I could see Bobby literally putting a finger in the hole in Scar's shoulder and knew it had to hurt, but Scar's face never reflected it. He was solely focused on Stephanie's whole shoulder.

I knew what Scar had been through, losing the woman he loved after she was shot in front of him, so I understood him being shaken up, but he was clearly in shock, so I held Stephanie to me tighter and began to look more closely at the scene around me for a reason why he would be so out of character from the end result. I'd always put Scar in the group of guys who literally lived with a wish for death, so having a close call and a bullet hole didn't explain his current state.

I looked at how Jeanne Ellen had fallen and saw the gun on the floor by her left side. She was a lefty, so that made sense. Before I could pull any clues from the scene, I felt Steph begin to shake. She had an eerie ability to handle high stress situations like this one, so I looked down quickly, in case I had been too hasty in announcing she was unharmed.

"Babe?" I asked, hoping she knew I needed to hear that she was okay.

Her eyes were focused on what Hal and Bones were doing around us, processing the scene on the floor.

Before she could say anything, Bones' voice floated to me, and I heard him confirming what I'd thought a few minutes before. "The gun shot wasn't lethal; it was metal rod to the head that did it – acute blunt force trauma."

I knew what had upset Stephanie now. "Babe," I said, trying again to get her attention. "Where did you get the piece of metal?"

She answered my question, but her eyes didn't leave floor. "It was behind the broom and dustpan in the kitchen. I found it when I called you to ask if we could come up. Scar was making her angry. When her arm reached behind her for the gun at her back, I was afraid she was going to hurt him, so I ran over and swung it at her head. She still fired, but I think the hit kept her from hitting him where she meant to."

I tried to recreate what happened based on the positions everyone was in when I arrived, realizing finally that Stephanie hadn't kept Jeanne Ellen from killing Scar, because that was never her intent. Jeanne Ellen had been aiming for Stephanie. Shit, no wonder Scar was so traumatized.

Jeanne Ellen was left handed, and Scar was standing in front of her with a hole to his left shoulder, which meant she'd been aiming across her body for something more to her right. Steph would have approached from that direction, coming from the kitchen, and the contact from the metal would have thrown Jeanne Ellen back, causing the shot to hit Scar, instead of her intended target.

If Steph hadn't acted, she would no doubt be dead right now, and I had a feeling seeing that happen in front on him, after intentionally riling up Jeanne Ellen, would have been a loss too great for Scar to process on top of Melody's death that I knew he'd always carry guilt from. He was blaming himself for what could have happened.

It was Stephanie's voice that pulled me back to the present.

"I killed her, didn't I?"

Oh, how I wish I had been here to save her from this. She was so innocent and didn't deserve to have the death of another human on her conscience. I knew that no amount of talking would change the fact that in Stephanie's eyes, no matter what Jeanne Ellen had done wrong, Steph was still the one that had taken her life.

"She can't hurt us anymore," I responded, knowing it wasn't remotely close to what she asked.

Then, those blue eyes with the ability to draw me in and communicate clearly with their depths, looked up at me, swimming in tears. "But I killed her."

I couldn't lie to her, so I nodded that it was true. The water that had been pooling in her eyes began to fall in earnest as Stephanie blinked, a futile attempt to hold them in.

"It all happened so fast," she said, still trying process what she'd done.

"I know, Babe, and you did the right thing. I'm so proud of you for finding a way to protect yourself and for following through when you had to," I said softly, trying to reassure her.

"She was going to shoot Scar, and I couldn't stand there, and…"

Her eyes shifted, and she looked over my shoulder, not focusing on anything in particular. Then, as though time had given her a clarity that the heat of the moment didn't allow, she turned quickly and looked at Jeanne Ellen, and then spun back to see Scar, who was getting a bandage taped on after Bobby stitched him up.

"No…not Scar…me."

Damn. I knew enough about Stephanie to understand that killing someone to defend the life of her friend was something she wouldn't like, but would eventually justify and live with. Realizing that Jeanne Ellen wasn't trying to shoot Scar, but her, meant she had struck first and prevented that bullet from hitting her. It was self defense, which in my book was just as justifiable, but I knew Stephanie wouldn't see it that way. She would wonder if maybe Jeanne Ellen was only going hit her in the arm or leg and that's all. She wouldn't see the probability that she'd saved her own life; she would only see the fact that she had killed someone to keep from being injured.

"Stephanie." I used her whole name, hoping like hell to get her attention, even though I knew it was unlikely. "You did what you had to do. You did what I would have done, and it was the right thing to do. Jeanne Ellen was going to kill you to make a point. Scar's shot was getting off too late to have stopped her. You had no choice."

She shook her head no and took a step back, pulling herself from my grasp. I mirrored her movement to try and keep her with me, but she lifted a hand with the palm up in a classic stop motion. Her head was still moving from side to side as she spoke quietly.

"No…no, there is always a choice."

She moved to the side, closer to the door, and I knew she was about to bolt from the apartment. I put my hand on her wrist to try and hold her back without crowding in on her too much.

"Yes, there was a choice, and you made the right one," I said, again trying to convince her of what I knew to be true.

The tears were running faster down her cheeks as she pulled her hand from my grasp, indicating she didn't want me to follow her. "I just need a minute," she announced, before turning and literally running from the apartment.

Once she'd left, you could have heard a pin drop in the silence that remained. The room was full of living bodies, but when she ran out, she took all the life out with her. We all hated the effect this was having on her, and we were felt powerless – no, impotent – to stop it. That kind of emotion doesn't sit well with men like us.

"I'll go," Scar stood up and announced.

Apparently, Stephanie's departure had snapped him out of the state he had been in. I wanted to argue with him and tell him that was my woman and he had no business being around her right now. She needed comfort, and I wanted to be the one to give it to her. But when Scar walked to me and I saw the clear purpose in his eyes, I knew it was the right decision. You can't force comfort on someone when they don't want to receive it.

Right now, Stephanie despised what she had done and questioned her right to have acted the way she did. If anyone understood that maelstrom of emotions, it was Scar. I figured he probably had a greater chance of getting through to her than I did at the moment, so I stepped aside and opened my mouth, wanting to give him some advice in handling the situation.

When only silence came out, Scar lifted the hand on his good arm and touched my shoulder. "I know, man. I'll send her back to you once I've talked some sense into her."

That broke the tension, and I nodded my head. "Good luck with that."

He walked out, and I stood there, unable to figure out what to do. Tank, Lester, and Hector walked over to me, as though they had something to say. I looked to Tank, who was usually to spokesperson when it came to delivering messages to me, but it was Hector who spoke first.

"We no call the cops," he insisted.

Lester butted in, "We'll take care of the clean up, but there is no way we're letting the Trenton PD in our house to question Steph."

"It was cut and dry self defense," Tank added. "But I agree that she shouldn't have to go through an investigation."

Bobby walked over just as Tank finished talking and said something none of us had considered. "Steph won't like us making this disappear. She might need the investigation to clear her own conscience."

I ran my hand over my face. This was getting more complicated by the minute. We had the tapes, the CSI evidence, and the scene hadn't been disturbed enough to hinder an investigation yet. Any investigator would easily come to the right conclusion about what had gone down here.

I pulled the cell phone from my hip and dialed a number I knew by heart. When dispatch answered, I reported what happened, assured them we had secured the scene for them to investigate, and informed them it included one fatality.

After I hung up, I looked at the guys and felt the need to thank them for what they were offering to do. They would have committed a felony to protect the woman I loved. And while I knew it wasn't some empty gesture, it wasn't the right thing for them to do. She was going to need them to get through this, but this wasn't what she would need.

"Thanks," I managed to get out, hoping they'd gotten the whole message, even though I hadn't said it.

"There's nothing we wouldn't do for that girl," Tank assured me, before walking out to let the PD in upon arrival.

"I'm going to put on a pot of coffee in my apartment. When they question Stephanie, she'll probably need something warm to get through reliving it," Lester offered, before leaving with Bobby.

Hector remained, and when my eyes locked with his, he lifted his chin slightly. "You okay?" he asked, not fooled by my attempt to act like this was no big deal.

In truth, everything about this was bugging the hell out of me. I had been betrayed by someone I'd worked with – hell, someone I'd slept with. I could have lost the only woman I'd ever really loved, and I was the one that let the damn viper into the building.

Then I thought about those eyes so full of anguish that looked at me earlier and answered him as honestly as I could. "I'm all right," I told him, willing it to be true. I might not feel it at the moment, but Stephanie needed me to make it through this hell, and there was nothing I wouldn't do for her.

Half an hour later, the PD showed up with a coroner, and they began to repeat the work already done by Hal and Bones. They took our statements and listened to the audio that Hector had copied for them. After the body was removed and everything else had been done, they asked for the inevitable.

"We're going to need to talk to the two individuals involved now."

I looked over to Tank and realized he wasn't going to call Stephanie in unless I told him he had to. Nobody wanted her to have to enter this apartment again. I looked at the uniforms present and asked if Eddie could be the one to take their statements.

The detective clearly didn't appreciate the request, but he didn't appear to want to contradict me, either. "Costanza can do the talking, but I'll have to be there as well," he countered reasonably.

Eddie heard his name and walked over, so I told them both to follow me and picked up my cell phone to find out where Steph and Scar had disappeared to. I expected them to be in Lester's apartment, but the control room reported they were downstairs in the gym.

"Have Tank and Bobby meet us down there. I want them to know they have the full support of RangeMan while they're being questioned."

The detective spoke up again. "Typically, we prefer to speak to witnesses in private."

"Nothing about this is typical," I replied tersely.

I could hear Eddie muffling a laugh. Thank goodness he was here. I knew Steph trusted him and would be more comfortable answering questions from him, instead of the detective that didn't know her except by reputation.

Tank and Bobby were right behind us as we entered the gym. The sound of clanking metal told me they were sword fighting in the back corner. I was glad to hear the sound. For one thing, it meant Steph was up and functioning. And I hoped it meant she was angry and working that out physically. That was a response I could not only understand, but relate to and participate in if she needed to keep going after this conversation was over.

As we got closer, I was surprised to see Scar fighting one handed to compensate for the wound to his shoulder. I heard Bobby make a sound of disgust at the thought of the careful stitches he'd just put in being ripped out from the activity. I guess the pain meds he'd injected to sew the wound shut were still kicking.

Stephanie was completely focused and gave no indication that she was even aware we had entered. Both hands gripped the hilt of the sword, and the grace with which she was attacking was beautiful. My Babe was a warrior, even if she didn't understand or recognize that in herself.

When their weapons clashed the next time, Scar held her up in the air, instead of pushing her away. Once he had her attention, he said, "We've got company."

Stephanie stepped back and let the sword fall to her side, as though having her rhythm interrupted made her aware of how exhausted her arms were. Scar gently took the metal from her weak grasp and squeezed her hand once it was empty.

The detective spoke first. "Sorry to interrupt, ma'am, but we need to get a statement from both of you about what happened here tonight."

Steph nodded, reconciled to the fact that she was going to have to relive it. But before she could speak, Scar did.

"Go get a bottle of water from the fridge, and I'll go first."

She surprised me by following his instruction without complaint. I didn't know what difference it would make, but I knew Scar rarely spoke unless it was necessary, so I figured he had a purpose in wanting to be the first person questioned.

Scar sat on the bench and leaned against the wall behind him, while Eddie opened a notebook and asked him to recount what happened from the time he and Stephanie entered the apartment.

Scar gave a perfect recap of what we'd already heard on the tape. By the time he got to the end of the encounter, Stephanie was sitting beside him, hanging onto every word, as though she needed to hear his version of what happened to understand it herself.

"When she pulled out a gun, I could tell from the cut of her eyes, she was going to shoot Stephanie, so I lifted my own weapon and fired once; unfortunately, she had a split second advantage over me, which would have allowed her to get off a perfectly aimed shot had Stephanie not intervened. I also knew that once she hit Steph, she would have turned that gun on me, too. I had pushed her intentionally to get her anger directed at me, gambling that if she struck out, it would be at me first. The gamble blew up in my face, because she was going to punish me twice for what I'd said. First, by proving she had the guts to kill Stephanie, and second, by doing the same thing to me."

I'd been around to hear Scar give a statement before, and I knew from the amount of detail and personal commentary he was adding that he was talking now just for Stephanie's sake.

"Steph entered from the side, and as you can tell, she has the arm strength and the skill to stop a person with a single stroke. But since Jeanne Ellen was in the process of turning, the blow hit her skull in such a way to do maximum damage. Had she stayed still, the contact would have knocked her out, but with the change in angle by Jeanne Ellen, it turned out to do more than that. Stephanie's intention was never to fatally hurt her in order to defend us both. The death was accidental in process of defending me."

Stephanie's eyes were full of tears, and I wondered if hearing Scar talk was doing more harm than good.

Eddie's voice softened, and he knelt in front of Stephanie to look her in the eye. He put a hand on top of hers and squeezed it before speaking. "Can you tell me what happened in there?"

She nodded and took a deep breath, retelling the same story from her point of view. When she got to the end, her voice cracked, but she bravely kept going. "When I saw her arm reach behind her and pull out that little gun, I thought she was going to shoot Scar, so I charged at her with the bar in my hands and swung it, hoping to knock her down and hopefully out so that we could tie her up and call for the guys to help. I knew everything was being recorded with my wire, and they would know she was the stalker we'd been after. I didn't expect her to keep moving to me so that I would hit the front of her head. I just couldn't let her hurt Scar. He's done so much to protect me that I had to try and keep him safe."

Then Eddie said something I'd never heard from another cop. "You did the right thing, Steph. I've heard that tape and looked at the preliminary evidence. She would have killed you both. There was no other option here."

Steph sobbed against his shoulder, and I was grateful for his clearly spoken words, even if they did harden the jaw of the detective behind him. Seeing that Eddie wasn't going to let go anytime soon, I nodded to the detective and stepped away from the guys when he moved toward me.

"Do you have everything you need here?" I asked him, implying he'd gotten everything he was going to get from her tonight.

He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck and let out a long breath. "I don't like the way this has been handled, but from where I'm standing, unless the coroner comes back with something that contradicts what we've been told, then this will be ruled a justifiable homicide in defense of a third party. We'll need your employees to sign their statements at the station in the next forty-eight hours, and I'd like to ask that they stay in the state until we get the official report from the coroner's office. I don't anticipate there being any surprises."

I resented his stand offish nature, and the fact that he was a complete stranger when he first arrived as the man in charge, but I could now appreciate his position, and since he'd come to the right conclusion, I knew his lack of a connection with anyone here would add more credence to his report when it was complete.

I stuck my hand out to shake his in a move I rarely performed. As he firmly took my hand, I told him, "Thank you for playing this by the book tonight. We will not leave the state, and if we travel from Trenton for any reason, I'll be sure that my office makes you aware of our plans until this is officially closed."

He seemed shocked that I was being so cooperative and relaxed further. Then he tilted his head in the direction of Eddie and Stephanie and said, "So, Miss Plum seems like an amazing woman. Off the record, is there anything you can tell me about her, other than she and Detective Morelli are no longer an item?"

I tightened my grip when he glanced at Stephanie with a look that had nothing to do with a professional assessment. An edge was in my voice that was well past threatening when I answered, "I can tell you that she and Morelli will never be an item again, and off the record, I can tell you that you should drop whatever scenario you might be entertaining regarding my woman."

It never got old watching someone who considers themselves to be a tough guy in a position of power have to respond to the fact that not only am I tougher, but their authority doesn't impact me at all. The detective paled slightly and took a half step backward, having to extend his arm more, since I still hadn't released his hand.

"I didn't realize you two were involved. I apologize," he managed to say, keeping marginal eye contact. Not bad for a civilian.

I let go and softened my expression to reply, "Now you know."

He called over to Eddie, saying they needed to get back to the station and file their report. Tank stepped forward to escort them out after I gave him a nod that everything was all right.

Eddie said something that made Stephanie smile, and then picked up his notebook and nodded to me on his way out. I went over to the bench and stood in front of Scar and Stephanie, unsure of what my next move should be.

Bobby helped me out somewhat by suggesting Scar should come back upstairs to the medical office so he could recheck the sutures he'd put in earlier.

Everyone else followed their lead and left me alone in the gym with Stephanie. When the door closed softly behind them, she looked up and met my eyes. I knew one of us needed to say something, but I was at a total loss about what the right words were at this moment.

She surprised me by raising both eyebrows in a failed attempt to copy one of my expressions, pointing to the swords that were on the bench beside her and asking, "So, how good are you with these things?"

I couldn't help myself and responded, "Babe, if you are asking me if I know how to wield a sword, then I think you need another reminder of my skills with long, hard objects."

She smiled – not one of her normal joy filled expressions, but still enough to communicate that even though she was still a little lost, she was going to be just fine.

With any luck, her response of "Bring it on" could relate to more than weapons later tonight.


	21. Just Desserts

_JE deserves all the credit for the characters below._

_Jen (JenRar) you are amazing. Thank you for giving so freely of your time to work as the beta on this story._

**Chapter 21 – Just Desserts**

_Stephanie's POV_

"Do you think Ella would adopt me?" I asked Ric, as I moaned my way through my blueberry stuffed french toast.

He looked down at his egg white omelet with spinach and peppers and smiled. "It looks like she already has."

It's true; Ella did take wonderful care of me. It was as if she challenged herself to come up with new things for me to eat that would be more delicious than the last meal she'd made me.

"Do you want to have lunch after you finish your errands this morning?" Ric asked.

"That'd be great, but I'll have to call you when I'm done, since I don't know how long it will take," I told him, thinking through my first outing without a full security detail in nearly a month.

"I'll be in on the police walkthrough of the apartment across the street today, so use my cell number," he informed me.

We finished our breakfast in silence – well, he was silent, but the syrup and blueberry combination hitting my tongue deserved a little noise, so I paid it its due homage – and then we finished preparing for the day.

"You ready to roll?" I asked Scar, understanding that not needing a security detail was not the same thing as being allowed to go out for the first time alone.

He nodded and pulled out a set of keys. "Are those for me?" I asked, knowing the answer.

"Absolutely not," he replied with a smile. "You can navigate, but I'm driving."

I knew better than to argue, so we went to the garage and got in the standard RangeMan black Explorer that had been assigned to us as the newest partners on staff.

We decided to go to the police station first and sign our statements from the night we'd faced off with Jeanne Ellen. Eddie had called and offered to drop by with them so that we could sign them at RangeMan and not have to come in, but I felt like I needed to leave the building and face the world. This was the perfect justification for doing that.

As I gave Scar the directions to get to the station, I was struck by what a pretty day it was outside. There were some birds fighting the smog to fly overhead, a few weeds bloomed in the cracks of the sidewalk, and there were even some children outside playing when we passed a street with houses on it. It was as if the world had continued to exist, despite the fact that it truly felt as though it had stopped spinning for me for a while.

I had taken the life of another human being, and I struggled to not let that thought consume me. After everyone left the night it happened, Ric had stayed with me in the gym and let me fight him until I simply couldn't hold my arms up any more. Then he took me upstairs, put me in a steamy shower, and rubbed my shoulders to help offset some of the soreness that he knew would be coming the next day.

Yesterday, he'd hardly let me get out of bed. Despite his very creative methods of distraction, I'd gotten stir crazy by dinner and had insisted we go downstairs to see the guys. When we stepped off the elevator, I'd been swarmed with strong arms wanting to hug me and see for themselves that I was okay.

Hanging to the back of the pack, silently watching everyone else, had been Scar. Of course, I hadn't let him get away with that; I'd worked my way over to him, announced that I needed company for dinner in the break room, and threaded my arm around his elbow to imply I expected him to come, too. He'd put his hand over mine, holding me to his arm, and escorted me down the row of cubicles to get to the room filled with healthy sandwiches and soup.

Despite the meal being good for me, I'd been glad to be around the guys. They'd helped me to smile again, and by the time we were done eating and talking, I'd felt better. I'd heard them tell me that it made such a difference in their life to have me around to balance the horrible things they'd seen and done. It had never made sense before, because I didn't think I did much. But now I knew it had little to do with what was being done; it was just the acceptance and support that was silently offered by my guys that was keeping me moving forward.

Robin greeted us at the front desk and led us back to Eddie's desk so we could get the signatures over with. I skimmed the report, knowing I should probably read it carefully, but I trusted Eddie to do a good job, and I really didn't want to go back to that dark place right now. I waited patiently as Scar diligently read every word of his and signed off on it. He shook Eddie's hand, and then we were on our way to the next stop.

Unfortunately, we didn't get any farther than the front door of the station, where we ran right into Joe.

"Cupcake," Joe began, but the expression on my face must have reminded him that I wasn't interested in hearing that particular pet name ever again. "Ah, Stephanie," he corrected himself.

"Joe," I said in response, and then stepped to the side to walk around him and toward the Explorer.

"Wait, Stephanie," he spoke once more, moving to stay in my direct path. "Can we talk?" He glanced over at Scar, and then back to me. "Alone?"

"No," I replied bluntly, and attempted to sidestep him once more.

Joe ran his hand through his hair in his nervous way and tried again. "Look, I read the report about what happened a couple nights ago at Ranger's building, and I know you don't care what I have to say. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about everything that happened between us, and I hope that the stuff that went down will help you see that me warning you to stay away from Ranger wasn't just jealous boyfriend stuff. It was to protect you from something like that happening."

"You're right," I said, giving him a minute to think he'd won an argument with me. "I don't care what you have to say." His gloating face was short lived.

This time, when I tried to step away and Joe attempted to counter my move, Scar moved forward. "Officer Morelli, you need to step away from us now. Stephanie's made it clear she has no interest in talking to you."

Joe took in Scar completely as he spoke and took a small step away from where we stood. "You can't avoid me forever," he said softly. "At some point, we're going to see each other in the 'Burg."

"And when you do," Scar spoke with a firm steady voice that made me shiver as he stepped around me to stand in front of Joe, "you will steer clear of her unless she gives you permission to approach her. I think everything she wants to say to you has already been said."

I put my hand on Scar's back so that he wouldn't lose his cool with Joe. If he was going to work in Trenton, it was important that he kept a good relationship with the police force, and despite what I thought of Joe personally, it wouldn't do to let Scar burn this bridge so soon.

Joe was watching, but didn't respond or move out of the way. Scar took my hand in his, and we walked away.

I heard Joe mutter, "You won't talk to me, even after all our history, but you'll let him touch you?"

There was no time for me to react, before Scar dropped my hand and Joe was on the ground, holding his hand to his bleeding nose.

"Assaulting a police officer?" Joe asked as the red liquid dripped down his face.

"No, defending a lady," Scar replied, breathing rapidly through his mouth – not from exertion, but to try and regain some control.

Joe eyed us both, and I held my breath, wondering if he was about to arrest Scar. Finally, he stood up and ruined his shirt sleeve by wiping it under his nose. "Go on," he instructed, before turning to walk into the station.

It was the first time in months that I felt like a piece of my old friend Joe was there. I decided to leave in silence, instead of giving him the chance to say something to ruin the moment.

Scar and I got into the Explorer and sat for a few minutes before he turned the key, and then we made our way over to my old apartment. I hadn't been there in a while, and I felt the need to check on my things to see how the place looked. Ric and I hadn't discussed our living arrangements, so I needed to be sure my home was still livable once the drama wore off at RangeMan and Ranger decided he wanted his space.

My phone rang as Scar pulled into the space right in front of the main entrance. I barely got the word hello out, before Cal asked, "Is Scar with you?"

"Yes, he's right here," I replied, wondering what was going on.

"Put your phone on speaker and hold it so he can hear me, too," Cal commanded.

He didn't sound angry, but he was obviously intent on saying something to the both of us, so I pulled the phone away from my ear and quickly searched for the speaker button.

"All right, you've got both of us now," I told him once I'd figured it out.

Cal jumped right to the point, "Word on the street is that you broke the nose of one Joseph Morelli at the PD today."

Scar smiled, but kept his voice neutral to reply, "Yep."

Then I heard Cal laugh, before saying, "So does that mean you're going to pull that list together for us, Bomber?"

I had to stop and think what he was talking about.

Scar finally clued me in. "I don't consider one punch really making the point about how we feel about the way he treated Stephanie, but I'm game for working on anybody else while we figure out a suitable response to the cop."

I didn't know if I should laugh at their joke or scream at them that they absolutely could not go around beating people up every time they hurt me. Luckily, I didn't have to figure it out, as Cal ended the call by saying, "As long as I didn't miss the chance to get a lick in, then I'm okay with waiting."

The line went dead, and I sat there, staring at my phone.

"That was a joke, right?" I asked, hoping Scar would put my mind at ease.

Scar laughed and got out of the truck, but didn't exactly answer my question. Knowing better than to wait for a real response, I followed him out and up to my apartment. The last time I was here, life was normal, at least for me. I was just Stephanie, girl from the 'Burg, classic screw up, and single. Now, I was Stephanie, girl from the 'Burg, classic screw up, and dating Ric. It might not seem like much of a difference, but to me, it was huge.

Scar went through doing the standard security sweep I'd seen all the guys perform, but I went straight to the kitchen. I ran my hand over my cookie jar and laughed at the layer of dust. I wasn't that great of a housekeeper when I lived here, but I'd at least kept my kitchen from looking gray.

Then I looked to my left and saw Rex's cage sitting empty on the counter. I walked over and put my hands on it. It was strange that such a small creature could mean so much. Scar entered in that silent stealth way all the Merry Men were capable of and moved to stand directly behind me.

My cell phone rang once more, and I answered it with a less than enthusiastic hello.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Ric's voice helped to cut through the funk I was feeling.

It was a comforting feeling to have someone who knew me well enough to understand my mood with only a single word as a clue regarding how I felt.

"We're at my apartment," I told him, only giving part of what had me down.

"Stay there," he instructed. "I'll be there in ten."

No shock, after that tidbit, the line went dead. I tapped my chin with my cell phone, wracking my brain to come up with a way to help Ric understand why I needed him to actually end a conversation with me, instead of just hitting the end call button on his phone.

"Everything all right?" Scar asked, probably wondering who'd been on the phone.

"Ric's on his way," I warned him. "We might as well sit and wait."

I picked up the remote and aimed it at the television, at a loss when nothing happened. I knew the apartment had power, and I could see the plug in the wall.

"Do you need help?" Scar asked, his voice dripping with teasing sarcasm.

I stuck my tongue out at him, feeling mature, but before he could respond, I heard my door being opened, and Scar moved to pull his gun and target whoever was entering unannounced.

From the light tingling sensation that went from the back of my hairline to my shoulders, I knew it was Ric before he spoke. Scar put his gun away, not bothering to look penitent for pointing it at his boss.

Ranger had a shoe box in his hands and the strangest expression on his face. I recognized the brand of shoes as being really expensive, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was such an odd time for him to bring me footwear.

"I have something that belongs to you," he said, holding the box toward me.

I was clueless. I didn't think those shoes were mine, and I was honestly a little hurt if they were. Was this his way of telling me he wanted my shit out of his apartment right away and he was beginning the move out process with this box?

Seeing that I wasn't moving, he sat on the couch next to me and put his hand on mine. "Be careful when you lift the lid," he warned me.

Now my spidey sense was in full warning mode. Whatever was in that box sure as hell wasn't shoes. There was no reason to open a box of heels carefully, no matter how much they cost.

I leaned closer and put my hand on the corner of the lid, pulling it back only by an inch to peek in. The box looked empty from that small glimpse, so I lifted the lid even more, and then I realized what Ric had brought me. I would have recognized those deep brown eyes and mismatched whiskers anywhere, but the chunk of fur on the back that was shorter than the rest was the biggest clue that Rex was the hamster currently cowering in the corner of the box.

I tossed the lid back and reached in carefully to scoop him into my hand and bring him up to my cheek to rub his soft fur against me. There were tears on my face that I didn't bother to hide. I stood up, rambling to my little friend that I was so glad he was home and promising to take better care of him in the future. I dropped one hand from him, keeping him safe in my left hand alone so that I could open the latch on his cage to put him back in his familiar home. I pulled out the food dish and the water container, knowing they would need to be freshened up for him.

Risking one more kiss to his head, I said, "I never gave up on you, Rex," and then moved to put him back in his cage. Just before my hand got to the metal of his home, his head moved and he bit me. I quickly dropped him inside, slammed the latch shut, and looked at his unrepentant butt as it stuck out of the soup can he'd run into. "I'm assuming that was a kiss of appreciation," I added dryly, before going over to the sink to wash my hands thoroughly with anti-bacterial soap.

Ranger pulled my hand from under the cool water and brought it up to his mouth to kiss just above the angry red mark left by my hamster. There was no blood, which made me smile. Rex had never appreciated being handled, but he knew better than to fully bite the hand that fed him. With that thought, I freshened up his food and water and slipped them in to complete Rex's homecoming.

"He's glad to be home," I said to no one in particular.

Ranger smiled. "He's hiding in an old tin can."

"Everybody expresses their gratitude in different ways," I replied, enjoying the banter. I rarely held my own for very long with Ranger, and doing it in my kitchen, with the sweet relief of having the horror of the last few days behind me, felt so freeing.

"You ready for lunch?" Ric asked.

I glanced at the time on the microwave and realized that 11:15 was a little earlier than I usually ate, but once the idea had been planted in my head, I couldn't think of a reason not to go.

"Let me take a quick look in the bedroom, and I'll be ready," I said, stepping away. For some reason, I just felt the pull to finish the walkthrough to reclaim my sense of normal.

I looked in my closet and laughed at how little there was in there. Hal had done a good job of clearing out most of my things when he moved me into Ric's penthouse. I felt a wave of sadness at the idea of packing my things up once more to bring them back.

"Stephanie," I heard Scar call me from the living room. His voice had an edge to it that I didn't understand. He didn't do fear, but I could swear he sounded scared to me.

Immediately, I went to where the guys were standing, with Scar holding the remote control upside down in his hand and Ranger holding the back of the battery compartment. I assumed they were trying to figure out why the television wouldn't work and felt a mild irritation that he'd worried me over batteries.

"What size does it take?" I asked, heading into the kitchen to my odds and ends drawer. I highly doubted I had the size I'd need, but it didn't hurt to try. Maybe the battery fairy had been to visit while I was gone.

"Stephanie." Ric spoke this time, and from the use of my full name, I knew they weren't calling me over to talk about missing batteries.

I froze, and the space just above Ric's eyes wrinkled with thought.

"Aren't you going to come closer?" he asked.

"No, I think I'm okay right where I am," I replied cowardly. Then I remembered the new me didn't like to cower and stick my head in the sand. "I'm not going to like this, am I?" I wondered aloud.

"Probably not," Ric replied honestly.

In five steps, I was close enough to see that shoved into the back of my remote where the four AA batteries should be was what looked like a little finger. I put my hand over my mouth. "Tell me that's not real," I begged, but neither of them was willing to lie to me.

"It's been there long enough that it's from Jeanne Ellen, right? It's the same finger that was in my car weeks ago, right?" I was a fountain of questions that I really knew the answers to already. The finger was still perfectly formed, with some dark dried burgundy at one end. It hadn't been in there for very long. There was no way this was Jeanne Ellen's work.

Scar set the remote on the table as Ranger pulled out his cell phone. "Get Hal and Bones over to Steph's apartment." He paused, and then added, "And call Eddie from the PD, since he and Carl handled the first finger that was delivered to Stephanie."

There was silence for several minutes, until I felt a laugh bubble up and out of my mouth.

"You okay?" Scar asked, looking at me like I was about to flip out at any moment.

Ric was pulling me to him before I could even respond. I guess that crazy woman vibe was pretty strong to worry him, too.

"I guess this means I don't have to worry about moving back to my apartment just yet, do I?" I asked quietly.

I felt Ric's chest shake lightly with laughter. "Not now," he agreed. "But you didn't need to attract a crazy just to get that outcome. I wasn't planning on letting you move away from me anyway."

I was flooded with relief that he wanted me to stay with him, that he wasn't looking for a way to put distance between us now that the threat of his stalker had been resolved. I decided to toy with him just a little, and pulled back to say, "_Letting_ me move?"

Ric swallowed – hard. I could see his Adam's apple bob up and down, and I even heard the sound. It was really too bad that my blank face was nowhere to be found, because the fact that I could intimidate the big Ranger Manoso was so much fun, a huge smile erupted on my face.

"You want to play?" he asked, with an expression that made me feel like I had a twenty pound steak around my neck as I stood in front of a starving lion.

My grin only grew, both because I loved this side of Ric that I didn't think anyone else knew existed, and because he was willing to go along with my desire to deny the bloody finger sitting in the remote on my coffee table. I didn't respond verbally, but dashed to stand behind a very confused Scar.

I put my hands on Scar's elbows so I could peek out from behind him and make a run for it from either direction if Ric made a move.

The door to my apartment swung open and some very confused looking men in black entered. It was enough of a distraction that I stepped away from Scar and thanked them for coming. A three second silent communication thing happened, where Ranger looked at the remote, Hal took a step toward it, and then Ranger nodded at Scar. I didn't know what all was said, but I assumed it was a detailed list of instructions that would keep the guys busy enough that my early lunch wasn't going to happen.

It was thoughts of my missed opportunity for food that kept me unaware of my surroundings enough to allow Ric to grab me from behind and pull me off of the floor to speak in my ear. "I see that look, Babe, and if you have an appetite that needs to be satisfied, I'll gladly take care of it for you."

I guess it's true that some people never learn, because I couldn't stop myself from pulling the tiger's tail once more and calling out loud enough for everyone to hear me, "Hey, guys. When we're done here, Ranger's buying lunch."

The men seemed surprised, but eagerly accepted the invitation, which made Ric squeeze me even harder and whisper, "You may think you're pushing me around, Babe, but when we get home tonight, I'm going to need to punish you for this little stunt."

I remembered the last time he'd punished me, and my hips pressed against him involuntarily. I blame that memory for the wicked smile that came over me, and I figured if he was going to do that again, I wanted him to have enough of a reason to make it last for a while, so I called out, "Work faster, boys. Ranger's willing to buy dessert, too!"


	22. You Wanna Bet

_The great JE created the characters below. I am just having my wicked way with them._

_Jen (JenRar), thank you for sharing your extraordinary talent as a beta with me on this story._

**Chapter 22 – You Wanna Bet**

_Ranger's POV_

I was a firm believer in the existence of heaven. God knows I've seen enough hell on Earth to prove the existence of the opposite must be true as well. But lying in my bed with Stephanie's naked body draped over mine in sheer exhaustion was a feeling so perfect that I wondered if this was, in fact, Heaven.

Her body was perfectly still, except for the end of the middle finger of her left hand, which was making tiny circles in the dip of my sternum. While I never considered that spot an erogenous zone, something about the repetitive attention she was paying it was bringing life back to my body after I thought I had exhausted my ability to reprise what we'd been doing for the last four hours.

I may have threatened to punish her for forcing my hand into taking the guys out for lunch, but it feels like my body is the one that took a beating. Knowing that she trusts me enough to give me complete control of her body like she'd done tonight is such a turn on.

Before I could do any more than let out a low rumbling groan at the fact that my lower body was insisting the rest of my body wake up and move, my cell phone began to ring. I ignored it, unsure if I really had the energy to move enough to answer it anyway. Instead of silence during the time when someone should have been leaving a message, the main line of the house phone began to ring.

"I don't think they're going to give up until you answer it," Steph slurred out. I couldn't help but notice that while she seemed to think I should move to answer the phone, she made no effort to get off of me so that I could stretch my arm over to the nightstand.

Fortunately, it stopped ringing before I had to try answering it. My eyes were beginning to shut on their own, and her finger began that tiny movement once more, just as I heard the entrance of the penthouse opening. There was no hesitation; I rolled Steph off of me, grabbed the Glock sitting beside the bed, and moved to the door of the bedroom. I waited until Stephanie pulled the covers up to protect her modesty, and then jerked the door open and pointed my gun right into the eyes of a very surprised Tank, with Lester and Bobby standing right behind him.

Tank was smart enough to put his hands up, and then freeze all other movement so I could process who had attempted to break into my apartment and get my brain back on track.

I lowered my arm and scowled at the men in front of me. "Is there a reason you're breaking in?"

"You wouldn't answer the damn phone," Tank replied.

I'd forgotten how much he hated having a gun in his face. It always made him twitchy. He didn't seem to mind it pointed anywhere else on his body, but he always got irritated about it near his eyes. I made a mental note to bring that up to Stephanie. She loved hearing about those kinds of things, and no doubt, obsessing over that oddity would keep her busy for quite a while.

Before I could ask what was so important they had to have my attention right now, Steph called out from behind me in a barely intelligible voice, "You guys may as well come in and tell us what you came up here for."

I spun around and saw she was still laying on the bed, in the exact position she'd collapsed in after pulling the covers up. "Babe, you can go to sleep, and I'll let you know what they wanted to tell us," I offered, trying to be helpful.

"No!" she said, raising her voice to assert, "I want to know now, but I can't get out of bed and sit in the living room. Just come on in and find a spot to sit down," she instructed.

There was a time that I considered myself to be the person that ran RangeMan, but I'll be damned if all three of them didn't obey her wishes and start moving around me to do her bidding. Lester sat on the bed with his back against the headboard and his legs stretched out in front of him. Bobby took the chair on the opposite side of the bed, and Tank just stood at the foot with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Shit, Ranger," Bobby exclaimed, before I could lower myself back into the bed and use the sheet to cover up my own nudity. I looked at him, unsure as to what was wrong. "What in the hell did you do to her?"

Bobby jumped up and ran out of the apartment, no doubt going downstairs for his medic bag. I looked at Stephanie and knew that she was pale and too exhausted to open her eyes, but other than that, she was an absolute vision of a thoroughly sexed up and satisfied woman. I didn't understand what the big deal was.

No one spoke, and since I hadn't invited them in, I didn't bother to demand a report in my typical manner. I assumed they were waiting for Bobby to return, so I let the silence grow and took the time to slip on some sweats from my closet.

The door to the apartment slammed as Bobby let himself in, not bothering to hide the fact that he was irritated about something.

He sat on the bed beside Stephanie and pinched her skin, and then he turned around and looked at me with a glare. I could see the skin pucker slightly and realized she was a little dehydrated. Okay, so from the time we got back from lunch until 0300 hours when they barged in, we hadn't eaten or had anything to drink.

Next, he rolled her head and looked at her neck. There was a line of three perfectly formed hickeys. They were in such a perfect row, barely touching each other and increasing in size so that it gave the appearance of being a bruise colored snowman. I usually objected to visible marks like those, but knowing that it made it perfectly clear to any male nearby that she was definitely taken made my chest puff up slightly. I hadn't realized I was so possessive, but damn, I liked the idea of everybody knowing this was my woman.

"Can you sit up for me, Steph?" Bobby asked her softly.

She let out a long breath, and then made a sound that meant no. Bobby hung his head as Lester let out a bark of laughter.

"This isn't funny, man," Bobby complained.

Lester looked up and tried to pull himself together without much luck. "Aw, come on man. She's a little dehydrated, and she's exhausted. There are some bruises on her neck, and I'll bet if you pulled this sheet back, you'd find a lot more in some strategic places."

"You pull that sheet back, and you'll be missing a hand," I threatened, which only made Lester's laughter bubble out once more.

"Right," he agreed, before addressing Bobby once more. "But you can give her some fluids, she can rest, and maybe with a B-12 shot, she'll be up and moving around just fine sometime tomorrow afternoon. There's nothing really wrong with her."

I had to agree with Santos, which wasn't something I wanted to make a habit of.

"Does that sound right to you?" Bobby asked Steph, touching her softly on the cheek facing him.

She didn't respond, and the smile on Lester's face completely disappeared. My eyes fell to the sheet over her chest, hoping to watch it rise and fall, showing she was still breathing, but had finally given in to the rest her body clearly needed. Bobby's hand went to her wrist for ten seconds, and then moved her neck, still feeling for a pulse.

"She's completely out," Bobby whispered. It was a good thing he wasn't taking my pulse at the moment, or he'd know that brief period was enough to make my own heart rate triple. "Everything Les said is true, but man, she's been through a lot the last couple of days, and she's exhausted. Her body needs a break. Her heart rate is a little low, and she is dehydrated, so you need to let her rest for a bit."

"She spent most of yesterday in bed," I defended myself, wanting to be sure they knew I was fully capable of taking care of her.

"Uh huh," Tank spoke up. "But being in bed for the day and resting ain't even remotely the same thing now, is it?"

Thank God for my darker skin tone, or they'd all see my checks color at that comment. Now that I thought about it, she hadn't eaten much yesterday, and to keep her distracted so that she didn't think about the whole Jeanne Ellen thing, I did keep us both busy. I knew how wiped out I felt half an hour ago and assumed for her, it was just too much to keep fighting.

"Did you all come here for a purpose, other than to bust my balls?" I asked with a rare smile.

Tank nodded, as though he'd forgotten there was a purpose for being in my bedroom, other than to check on the woman sleeping there. "We got some information on the finger from her apartment this morning."

I pointed to the living room, and we moved out there so that we didn't interrupt Steph's sleep.

"Everything about it matches the first finger that was placed in the jewelry box in her car. It was a very realistic fake made from a plastic compound that some high tech prosthetics are made from. The blood on the end was real. It had fingerprints, but other than matching the one that had already been given to her, they don't match a living soul in the system," Tank reported.

Lester spoke up, his face all business. He might be a jokester that loved to give me a hard time, but when it came time for work, he was one of the few people I'd want on my team every time. "The ring, though, was interesting. It was a real diamond with 18 karat gold and covered with fingerprints. We thought it might be a copy, but in putting the word out on the street, we think it was the family ring of the Santiago family. Niko Santiago wore that ring, and when anyone met with him, they usually showed their respect by kissing it. How it came to be missing is a mystery, but I checked with my source at the PD, and although the fake finger is still in the evidence locker, the ring is nowhere to be found."

Damn, how did Steph get mixed up with the Santiago family? Everybody in Trenton knew they were an old hard core mob family with ties to Sicily. They were everything the _Godfather_ movies tried to depict, but more ruthless – and real.

"Who was Joe investigating when he and Steph broke up?" I wondered aloud.

The guys looked at each other, and Lester's recall came up with it first. "The leather sex gift was from the Santiago family. He was digging up dirt on them. I guess they put Steph and Joe together and were trying to send a message."

"These people too busy to buy a Hallmark card?" Tank asked, his sense of humor covering his concern.

"See if you can figure out what's going on, and talk to Vince about the Santiagos. He had a contact in the family at one point. Maybe he can shed some light about what they want from Stephanie," I instructed, suddenly feeling as exhausted as Stephanie and wishing I were still sprawled out on our bed.

Hmmm, our bed was a nice thought. It hadn't escaped my attention that back in her apartment, she seemed to be scouting the place to be sure it was ready for her to return. We hadn't discussed living together, but I had no intention of letting her leave my side at night. I think she'd made her point this afternoon that she didn't want to be informed of where she would be staying with no say in the matter, but this was what I wanted. I wanted her in my bed every night for the rest of our lives. Damn, I never thought I'd see the day when admitting to wanting forever with one woman would be such an easy thing to do.

They talked for a few more minutes, and the guys took my lack of participation, or even interest, as a hint to get out.

At the door, Bobby turned back and said, "Her blood sugar drops like mine, so I worry about her. I know she'll be fine, but she never thinks about herself, and I doubt she'll ask for help, so I may have overreacted a bit when I first saw Steph in the bed."

It was an apology without the exact words. I understood and decided to give him what he needed. "I'll let her sleep for now, but when she wakes, I'll make sure she eats something. If she's not up and moving around by 1000 hours, I'll give you a call to intervene."

Bobby nodded and looked at his watch. I knew he'd be awake then, but had a feeling that he'd be sitting by his phone at that time, waiting for some kind of news. It was nice to know I wasn't the only man in this building wrapped around that woman's finger.

After locking the door, I stopped by the kitchen for a bottle of water and a straw. If Steph woke when I climbed back into bed, I wanted to try and get her to drink something. As a last minute decision, I opened the cabinet Ella had stocked for Steph and pulled out something called a Nutty Bar. I refused to look at the nutritional content, but decided to take a page from Steph's playbook and deny the existence of the unnatural ingredients and focus on the advertising on the front of the box that claimed it contained "real peanut butter." Did that mean unreal peanut butter existed? I shook that thought from my head and decided I needed some sleep, if my thoughts were beginning to ramble that much.

I sat everything on the nightstand on my side of the bed, and then climbed in as gently as I could. Steph didn't stir at all, not even when I decided her being three inches away from me was entirely too much distance and I repositioned her to lie across my body like she was before the guys arrived. I could feel her warm breath across my chest and let the slow deep rhythm lull me quickly to sleep.

I woke up a little after five and felt much better from the two hours of rest I'd gotten since the guys interrupted us last night. I smiled when I looked at the two of us and noticed we hadn't moved an inch from the position we were in when I came back to bed.

I slowly extracted myself so that I could head down to the gym. I knew I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, so getting back into my routine was a wise move. As I stood to stretch the stiffness from my muscles after being so still for so long, I looked at the nightstand and noticed the snack bar and bottle of water I'd brought to bed last night were missing.

Had I dreamed that I'd brought them in? I didn't want to wake up Steph just to ask if she'd seen the food I'd brought her, so I went into the kitchen and opened her cabinet to see if the box I thought I'd seen last night was real or a figment of my imagination. I felt better when I saw the box was real and missing one of the bars that should have been in there. Hopefully, that meant Steph had eaten it.

I moved to the bathroom to get ready for the day and saw the empty bottle of water and the wrapper from the Nutty Bar in the trash. Man, I was exhausted if her getting up and having a snack didn't even register. Still, I knew I'd see Brown in the gym, and being able to tell him she'd had some fluids and something to eat would help him to relax.

I was nearly done with my workout when Lester and Bobby came over. I relayed the information about Stephanie to my medic, and he nodded, but I saw a slight lowering of his shoulders at the same time, so I knew he was relieved.

Lester, however, was still keyed up. "I got Vince to call his man in the Santiago family, and word is they found out they'd been infiltrated by Morelli, and they were pissed. The feds used some of the dirt he got to file federal charges of racketeering, tax evasion, and drug trafficking against Niko Santiago's son, Paul."

"What's this got to do with Steph's deliveries?" I asked.

"The first one was a threat of his ring to let her know the Santiago family was looking for her, and they weren't pleased," he replied quickly.

"What about the second one?" I asked, hoping he had more than that to spill.

"He said it would depend on what finger it was supposed to be. This guy didn't know they'd made a second delivery to her, so he was out of the loop. If it was supposed to be a pinky finger, then combined with the ring finger she'd already received, it would be a benediction or goodbye. But if it was any of the other fingers, it would be taking the threat up another notch," he reluctantly reported.

I ran a towel over my face and wondered how to best deal with this newest threat to Stephanie. Honestly, I had no idea why she seemed to be targeted by so many people. If they knew her at all, they would understand that she wasn't a threat and would never intentionally cause harm to anyone. Of course, if they knew her only by reputation, I guess they would assume she was a wild card, capable of anything and fond of making big scenes.

"Keep digging, and let me know if you come up with anything else," I told him, wishing it were possible to just pick up the phone and ask Niko what he was trying to do. There were only a few people that could get away with a move like that, and I doubted even I was one of them.

Steph was beginning to rejoin the land of the living when I stepped out of the closet, fully dressed for the day. Her hair was completely wild, and her eyes seemed twice as dark against her extra pale skin. I knew she'd probably be horrified by the way she looked right now, but I found myself wishing I could join her in bed once more. She took my breath away.

"Did I dream that the guys were here last night?" she asked, sounding confused about what was real, just as I had been earlier.

I chuckled. "They were here, and you nearly scared Bobby to death," I teased, refusing to admit I'd been just as worried.

"Why?" she asked, not remembering that part.

"You basically passed out, and since you and I hadn't really taken any food or water breaks, you were a little dehydrated and unresponsive," I answered, giving her the short version.

"Is that why you set out the water and Nutty Bar for me?" she asked with a smile.

"Yeah, I wanted to be sure you had something if you needed it during the night," I confessed.

"Wow, I must have really worried you if you were suggesting that was a suitable snack," she teased, while sitting up and holding the sheet to her chest. It was a little low, but still high enough to block my view of her perfectly shaped nipples.

"Was there anything important for them to report, or were they just trying to find out what we were up here doing?" she asked, getting my attention away from the sheet in the hope it would drop another half inch.

I told her all about the fake fingers and the information Vince's informant with the family had provided. I told her the truth that we had no idea what the second delivery meant, but we would find a way to figure it out.

Her eyes glassed over, and I knew she was lost in her thoughts for a moment. "I think I can get to the bottom of things. Don't pull the guys off of whatever they are assigned to just for this."

The truth was if we hadn't been so preoccupied with me having a stalker, we would have realized this was a separate threat from mine, and after all this time, we would have already gotten to the bottom of things. I think we were all beating ourselves up for missing the fact this was totally separate from Jeanne Ellen's threats.

"Babe," I interrupted her. "There is nothing more important to me, or the guys, than insuring your safety."

She smiled and looked down, as though my words were hard to accept. I knew she had a lifetime of her mother and various guys beating down her self-worth and confidence. I was taking it as a personal challenge to build her back up so that she saw herself in the same way I did.

She looked back up at me, as though judging the sincerity of my words, and then dazzled me with one of her beautiful grins. "I think Scar and I can get to the bottom of things today. If you pull the guys off the case for twenty-four hours, I'll let them help if I can't sort everything out by then."

"This sounds like a bit of a betting situation," I said, while taking the three steps to the bed and bending down to put my lips on the snowman I'd marked her neck with last night. "It seems to me, this might be a good opportunity to make a little wager."

The Santiago family wasn't in any way connected with Connie's family, so if she thought her friend at Vinnie's office was going to be able to help sort this out, she was about to be disappointed.

The grip Steph had on the sheet in front of her relaxed; I was briefly sidetracked by the sight that popped up before me and stopped kissing her in order to appreciate the view.

She used my distraction to her advantage and moved to sit on her knees, putting her chest even closer to me. "What kind of wager are we talking about?"

Damn, she was sexy when she was confident. Usually, I found cockiness a complete turn off, but on Steph, the unpredictability brought out the animal in me, and my body was desperate to see what she'd do next.

I traced my index finger along her hairline, and as it passed by her ear, she moved her head swiftly and captured my finger tip in her mouth, sucking on it to draw it into the warm wet confines there and making my knees nearly buckle.

I needed to focus, or I'd be begging her to let me have my finger back, in order to replace it with another part of my anatomy that wanted a turn with the heated suction her mouth was capable of creating.

"I bet you need my help by the end of the day to figure out what the finger was supposed to mean and to stop any future threats from the Santiago family," I clarified, proud of my ability to speak at all.

She released my finger and grinned up at me. "I'll bet I can get everything figured out on my own before dinner."

There was no way she could figure this out so quickly with no workable connections to the family, so I stuck my hand out to shake on the bet. She put her hand confidently in mine, and then asked, "So what are we wagering? I liked the massage I got off of you last time."

I chuckled at her choice of words, as I remembered what that massage had turned into. "We've already done that, so it will need to be something different."

That sparkle came into her eye, and I had a bad feeling about what she was about to say.

"How about we duel in the gym? But if I win, you have to do it wearing an outfit of my choosing, and if you win, you can dress me in anything you want me to wear."

I laughed at her suggestion and figured it sounded good to me, so I quickly agreed and began wondering what fantasy outfits I could dress her in that would work with the whole sword fight scene. I'd need to be sure the gym doors were locked so that we didn't have company, but I was already looking forward to her admission of defeat.

Of course, where I'd find a ripped lady pirate outfit that barely covered her breasts and had slits in the tattered skirt high enough for me to see the lack of panties underneath was a bit of a mystery, but I'd cross that bridge once we came to it.

She might have won our wager over the guys eating doughnuts, but this was about solving a mystery based on informants and fast skills. This was my area of expertise, and there was no way I was going down. I kissed her and went downstairs to pull the guys off the case, already able to hear the sound of our swords clashing in my mind and smiling at the prospect of what else it would lead to with the easy access her outfit was going to provide.


	23. Doughnuts, Details and Dates

_The characters (except Scar) are all from the creative mind of JE. I deserve no credit._

_Jen (JenRar) I can't figure out how I got so lucky when I drafted you as the beta for this story. You are such a joy to work with – thank you!_

**Chapter 23 – Doughnuts, Details and Dates**

_Stephanie's POV_

"What are you trying to figure out?" Scar asked, as he set down my coffee and took a sip of his own.

I smiled, knowing that in the steaming mug on my desk was a cup that held exactly two and three fourths spoonfuls of sugar and just enough cream to cut the coffee without it tasting like milk. Scar was the only person that could make my coffee exactly the way I liked it. I'd asked him how he did it, and he never told me, but in watching him make his own, I realized we took our coffee the same way, so he was basically making mine just like his. It was one more thing that made working with him so easy.

I shook my head to stop dwelling on coffee and tried to answer his question without scaring my partner. "I need to meet with somebody, and I'm not sure he's going to want to meet with me or that I'm really all that excited about meeting with him."

I was right about scaring him. Scar sat up ramrod straight in his chair and asked, "The cop?"

"No," I replied quickly, to assure him I was done with Joe Morelli.

Instead of answering his question, I picked up the piece of paper with the phone number I'd been given and dialed it, hoping Scar would pick up enough clues from my side of the conversation to know what was going on.

The person that answered the phone sounded like they were less than thrilled to be interrupted, as they barked out, "Who is this?"

I tried not to stammer, "This is Stephanie Plum."

I was going to explain my purpose in calling, but they interrupted me once more to say, "Hold on."

I tried to keep from getting anxious as I waited, but the longer the silence stretched out, the more worried I became. The same irritated voice returned to the line and asked, "Do you need a favor?"

"Yeah, I guess I do," I replied, not all that comfortable discussing this with an unknown person.

After another extended hold, the gruff voice returned to say, "He'll be at your office in ten minutes and asked for you to meet him in the room you used previously."

I was going to thank him, but the call disconnected before I got in another word.

I sat there, staring at my cell phone, wondering if the male DNA carried with it a genetic predisposition to not say goodbye to end a conversation.

I glanced at Scar and realized the chances of me having this meeting without him were slim to none, so I motioned for him to follow me downstairs. We got to the front desk, just as a black Mercedes pulled up. A greasy looking guy got out and did a standard security sweep, before opening the back door to let Terri Gilman's Uncle out of the car and into the RangeMan lobby.

"Stephanie," he said, acknowledging me and not the two men working at the front desk.

"Vito," I said in response, awkwardly accepting the kisses on both my cheeks as a greeting.

"I was happy to get your call," he said with a smile, before pointing at the door to the conference room. "We'll talk now, yes?"

"Of course," I agreed, not really feeling that I was in a position to tell him no at the moment.

Vito's guard opened the door and walked in first, moving to stand behind the seat at the head of the table, which he pulled out for Vito. I sat to his right, and Scar stood at the door in a parade rest position.

I had grown so accustomed to seeing Scar relaxed that when I glanced at him with his hard face on, I did a double take at how harsh the red mark across his face made him look. The two men standing seemed to be involved in a stare off, so I looked at Vito, who was waiting on me to speak.

"I know how busy you are, so I am sorry to take up your time," I began, hoping he could help me after all.

He made a dismissive gesture. "I am grateful that you convinced my niece to remove herself from the cop's life. She said your conversation was enlightening and has taken dramatic steps to keep him from contacting her. You more than withheld your end of the bargain, so I am glad to have a way to repay what I consider to be a huge debt to you for taking care of someone in my family I care for deeply."

I told him about the fingers that had been left for me by the Santiago family, including Niko's ring. He listened without interrupting, and when I was finished, he steepled his fingers and thought silently.

Finally, he stood, leaving me feeling very disappointed that I was going to lose the bet with Ranger and have to stay in the building to avoid the possibility of a mob family after me.

After rising and taking a step toward me, he reached down and patted my cheek. "Do not worry. I will look into this and have someone contact you with what I discover. But the Santiago family will not touch you." Then he put his hand over his heart and added, "You have my word."

I couldn't help but smile at how reassuring his response was. Even if I couldn't get the answers I needed quickly, at least I felt that I could trust the man in front of me to call off the rival family's threat against me so that my lockdown wouldn't last indefinitely.

I knew better than to ask when I might hear back from him, so I thanked him instead, and watched Scar open the door and step aside as Vito and his man left the small conference room.

Then, Scar surprised me by shutting the door and crossing his arms over his chest, resuming his 'I'm a tough guy, don't mess with me' face to say, "You didn't think I needed to know that a major mob family was threatening you?"

"I only found out this morning," I defended myself.

Scar glanced at his watch and said, "We did yoga two hours ago. You didn't think this was important?"

"What I thought was that I needed to do what you told me to, which was to learn how to use the time in the gym to empty my head of all the stress that keeps me frazzled. It's not like we left the building and I didn't warn you there might be trouble. Besides, you were the one that discovered the finger in my remote control. Did you honestly think there was any chance it was a good thing to discover?" I bit back, knowing I sounded a little screechy and regretting that I was taking out some of my irritation on my friend.

Scar uncrossed his arms and hardened his tone to say, "The bottom line is if there is even a suggestion of a clue about what is going on with a threat to you, I need to know."

I narrowed my eyes, wondering if I wanted to have it out with him right here and now, and then I realized he had a point. The guy still had gauze covering the bullet hole in his shoulder because of a threat to me, and to let him walk out with me when a gunman with an itchy finger might be aiming in my direction was unfair.

"I'm sorry... I just wanted to get a few more details before admitting to everyone that, once again, I had managed to find trouble," I confessed, trying to let go of my anger, even though I still felt a little charged from the spike in emotion.

Scar put both palms flat on the table and leaned over, letting out a slow breath. "You age a man, you know that, right?"

I smiled the best I could to put on a happy face. I filled him in on the bet with Ranger, and he thought the stakes were hilarious, making me promise him a picture of the boss in whatever costume I came up with.

Mention of the costume got me thinking that I needed to be prepared for my victory. "There are a few errands I need to run. Do you feel like heading out with a possible target next to you?"

Scar didn't seem to appreciate my attempt at humor, but opened the door, indicating I should lead on.

I gave him directions to the Tasty Pastry, and when he turned off the Explorer, I put my hand on his arm and assured him, "I'm just running in for a dozen doughnuts and will be right back out. You don't need to guard me from the muffin man in there."

He gave me a look that basically assured me if I got out of the car, (or opened the door, but not got out of the door) he was going with me, too. I knew better than to argue, so I just pretended to be inconvenienced and rolled my eyes at the blatant show of macho pride. Honestly, if this whole ordeal with Jeanne Ellen had taught me anything, it was that if a crazy person really wanted you dead, you'd be dead. There was no point in walking around in fear all the time. Some people might call my attitude reckless; I considered it more of a refinement of my former preference for denial.

The little bell rang above the door, and my favorite pastry preparer came out from the kitchen in the back with a little flour on her forehead and her limp barely recognizable.

"Hey, Sarah," I said, refusing to be embarrassed that I knew the baker on a first name basis.

"What can I get you two today?" she asked, completely unfazed by the man beside me.

"We need half a dozen Boston creams, four jelly-filled, and two regular glazed," I said, giving her my order, and then watched as she pulled a flattened piece of cardboard into shape as the box that would transport our goodies to Vinnie's. We made small talk while she gathered up my order, and then she moved over to the register.

I couldn't help but notice that her limp got more pronounced as she moved to ring us up. "How are you doing today?" I asked with a nod to her leg.

She shrugged off my concern and replied, "I know every day won't be a good one, and today is proof of that. But having my best customer come in is always a plus."

I loved how she flipped her words around so that it ended by turning the attention to me.

"This is my new partner," I said, pulling Scar closer to the counter. "You might be seeing a lot more of him, since he's working with me and it takes a few of your creations to make the world start spinning for me."

"Any friend of Stephanie's is always welcome in my shop," Sarah responded with a smile.

Scar stuck his hand out and shook hers. I put my head down and stared at the tips of my shoes when he didn't release her hand right away. He made a comment about eating his first Boston cream just a few weeks ago, and Sarah's face beamed.

She let go of his hand and reached into the cabinet to pull out something else with a waxed paper sheet, before handing it to him. "I'm glad you liked it, but something tells me this might be more your speed."

He did the standard RangeMan single eyebrow questioning, and she mirrored his expression perfectly by raising one of her own. "Taste it first, and then I'll tell you what it is."

He took a bite and chewed, before grinning at her and saying, "This is fantastic. What is it?"

"It's an apple pie doughnut. I started with the same basic plain doughnut as a Boston cream, but instead of custard, I used an apple pie filling I made with fresh picked apples, and then I topped it with a cinnamon and vanilla icing," she explained with pride in her new creation.

He took another bite, looked over at the box in my hand, and then back up to the case behind her.

I decided to help him out and said, "Can we get two more of them to go, please?"

It was the greatest compliment she could have received, so her face lit up as she prepped his order, as well. I thanked her and started to walk away, before realizing Scar wasn't beside me. When I turned to check on him, he was talking to her softly enough that I couldn't hear their exchange. I stood at the door for another minute, trying to give them a little privacy and feeling as though I might have done a great thing for both of them this morning.

When Scar finally said goodbye, we started making our way to the bonds office. I was determined not to mention what just happened at the bakery. I could feel him glancing my way every ten seconds and struggled to keep my version of a blank face in place.

I guess the silence got to be too much for him, and he finally broke it by asking, "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"No. I can't think of a thing that needs to said," I replied, looking out the passenger window to keep him from seeing my satisfied smile.

"All right," he conceded. "Tell me about her limp."

I glanced back at him, wondering why he was asking, before remembering this was my friend and there was no way he would think less of her because of her limitation, so I gave him the quick version. "If you want all the details you'll have to ask her yourself, but right after she took over the bakery, she was hosting a Saturday afternoon baking class for some underprivileged children. She was teaching them how to make regular doughnuts and trying to inspire them to cook as an alternative to wandering the streets, getting into trouble. At the end of the class, she walked all the kids out and waited with them to be picked up."

I swallowed, remembering the news reporting what happened next. "I guess the last two kids picked up were siblings of rival gang members, and when they saw each other, they both drew their guns. Sarah pushed the children behind her to protect them, but somehow in the confusion, a stray bullet hit her right in the knee cap. It shattered the bone and had to be replaced. There were some other complications that had her in the hospital for several weeks straight."

I shivered at that part, remembering the bakery being closed and the poor way I'd handled being without my favorite form of sugar. Ranger had no idea how close he came to getting attacked during that time.

"Anyway, after all the procedures to replace the knee and eliminate the infection that set in after, she ended up with a limp. Some days, it's just an inconvenience, but other days, you can tell it still hurts her a lot. I guess there isn't much they can do, other than pain killers, and she refuses to rely on those to cope. So to celebrate being well enough to return to the bakery after the accident, she invited all the children that were there the last time to come back for another class. This time, the police were there for drop off and pick up, but she said she still believed in what she was doing for the children and she refused to let one bad experience keep her from doing it again."

We rode the rest of the way in silence, as I made a mental list of all the ways Sarah and Scar were ideal for each other. By the time we parked at Vinnie's, I was ready to start planning their engagement party.

He took the key from the ignition and looked at me. "She didn't flinch when she looked at my scar."

"Why would she?" I challenged him.

"I'm hideous," he replied, as though it were obvious.

"No, there's a mark on your face that may be obvious, but it in no way makes you hideous," I told him sternly. "Besides, I have a feeling she's at the Tasty Pastry saying something along the lines of 'he shook my hand and didn't look at me with pity or assume I was incapable of running a business because of my leg'."

"Point taken," he conceded, before opening the door.

Poor Scar... He might have thought we'd had our last discussion about Sarah, but he couldn't be further from the truth. If he thought I was going to let this drop, he didn't really know me at all.

I carried my box of treats into the office and felt it being ripped from my hands before I was even fully across the threshold. Lula had it open on Connie's desk with a jelly-filled in her hand before she even said hello.

"Girl, you knew I needed a little something to settle my nerves this morning, didn't you," she blurted out, before consuming half of the doughnut in one bite, allowing a glob of the raspberry filling to hit her ample cleavage.

"What happened?" I asked, before I caught myself.

She held up a finger in a wait a minute gesture in order to cram the rest of the doughnut in her mouth and pick up a second one, before looking back up at me to speak.

"I've been keeping to my swear word diet real good, but no weight's been coming off, so I figured I might should try shaving off a pound or two the old fashioned way," Lula offered.

"And what exactly is the old fashioned way?" I wondered.

"Girl, I didn't eat breakfast, and now that I'm stuck in the office, I'm starving. I mean, my hands are shaking, I can't think straight, and I'm pretty sure my hair ain't as shiny as it should be. Can not eating making your hair look bad? I mean, I'm falling apart over here. A body needs food – especially a voluptuous body like mine." She was rambling as she tried to get the second doughnut finished.

I visited with the girls for over an hour and got caught up on all the gossip as we polished off a dozen doughnuts between all of us. As the conversation began to drop off, Connie sat up straighter and crossed herself. I followed her line of vision, just as Scar jumped up and walked to stand beside the door with his hand on his gun.

A black Mercedes pulled up, and before I could wonder who was in it, the greasy haired man that had accompanied Vito this morning stepped out, did a security sweep, and then opened the back door of the car.

Vito came in and greeted me the same way he had this morning, with a kiss to either side of my face, and then pointed to the couch where I had been sitting, indicating that I should have a seat.

He took one of my hands in his in a fatherly way, and then said, "I have spoken to Niko personally. He admitted he had his family threaten you with the finger and the ring a month ago and that a few days ago, he called off the threat by putting a little finger in your remote. It was giving you a benediction," Vito explained, holding up his hand so that his ring finger and pinky were touching his palm and the other fingers were still standing up. "He was telling you to go in peace."

"Geez," I replied, before I could catch myself. "Couldn't he have just left a message on my machine?'

Vito laughed at my boldness to speak that way in front of him, before explaining, "He had to finish the message in the way it started. Niko is many things, not the least of which is consistent."

"Why was he threatening me to begin with?" I asked, wanting to be sure I had the whole story.

"You were with the officer who infiltrated his family. He was furious that someone had gotten information on his son and was trying to threaten the cop by threatening you. When he realized you were no longer together, and you didn't seem to be interested in reconciling this time, he let you go by sending the second message," Vito patiently explained.

"So I'm safe?" I wondered with hope.

"Completely. I explained the nature of your relationship with the officer he despises and shared the details my niece gave me of why you and he will never unite again. He seemed to think that sufficient to prove that you were innocent in all of his family's troubles," he offered.

I leaned back into the sofa, relieved to have escaped what could have been a bad situation.

Then Vito spoke again. "He did ask me to convey a message on his behalf."

I knew it was too good to be true. "What message?"

"After realizing what you have been through, and what you may have been exposed to because of the presents he sent to the cop, he wishes to make it up to you." Vito reached in his perfectly tailored suit and pulled out a business card. "He says he considers the Santiago family to be in your debt because of the stress their mistake must have caused you. As such, you are to call him if he or anyone in his organization can be of assistance to you at any time."

I tried to refuse. "But I didn't do anything for them... They don't owe me anything."

Vito smiled. "Regardless, a man like Niko Santiago should not be insulted by refusing his gift. Tuck this away. He has a long memory, and there may come a time, months or years from now, when you need the help he can offer, and then you will call him."

I took the card, not wanting to upset Vito after all he'd done for me already. The back of the card had Niko's signature and the words _My Apologies, Miss Plum_ written in a heavy handed script.

"Thank you," I said, trying to express my gratitude.

He waved me off as he had at RangeMan. "There is no need to thank me. I told you that I was indebted to you for the service you provided to my niece."

With that, he stood up, nodded once to Connie with his hand over his heart as a sign of respect and peace, and then walked out behind his guard.

Connie looked in the empty box on her desk and swore. Scar walked silently out of the office, returned with the second box we'd gotten from Sarah, and offered it to her.

Without even looking at what was in there, Connie took one of the apple filled pastries and began eating. I guess I was just ignorant enough of what Vito was capable of to be as stressed about his visit as Connie was. She had first hand knowledge of what a big deal it was to have a visit from the head of a mob family.

We were all silent as Connie used Scar's treats to get herself back together. After she'd eaten them both, she looked down in the box and frowned. When she looked back up, she apologized. "I'm so sorry. I was thinking, and I've eaten all your doughnuts."

Scar's whole face lit up with a smile, which surprised me. "That's all right," he assured her. "We've got some more errands to run, and you've given me the perfect excuse to swing back by the bakery while we're out."

I smiled, feeling a sense of pride and joy at what he was implying. This time, when we pulled up to the Tasty Pastry, I had no intention of going in. I knew I was safe to sit outside. I had the excuse of needing to make a few calls to locate a certain costume that I was going to need, and I wanted him to have a chance to talk to Sarah without anyone listening. With any luck, he'd come out with a date, and I'd have something to press him about on the way to the mall.


	24. To The Victor Goes the Spoils 2

_The characters below are all courtesy of JE. _

_Jen (JenRar) you have been such a wonderful guide as the beta to this story. Thank you for jumping in when I needed help, and for sharing my excitement over the course of the story. _

**Chapter 24 – To the Victor Goes the Spoils**

_Ranger's POV_

I couldn't believe I'd lost this bet. I hadn't thought about the possibility of Stephanie calling Vito to get information on the Santiago threat against her. Thankfully, we'd gotten the answer we'd wanted to hear – that she was safe and not going to be threatened by them again. The card giving her a favor from his family at anytime was more than proof enough. Few people ever got that kind of treatment from Niko himself, so there way no way I could deny the information was good.

And now, I was in the bathroom in the gym, holding a bag with a costume in it that Stephanie expected me to put on and walk out wearing in order to sword fight with her. I'd asked her to lock the gym doors, but the look on her face had me worried that not only would the doors _not_ be locked, but she might be selling tickets for ringside seats.

Still, this meant a lot to her, and I never break my word, so I had no choice but to put on the skin tight, low cut, leather pants with a red sash at the waist and the knee high boots that fold down at the top. There was a mask, too, and a round flat brimmed hat. Shit, she was dressing me up like Zorro, but without a shirt. Of course it all fit, so I couldn't use that an excuse for refusing to step out of the men's room.

I had wasted an hour of my morning imagining her in a naughty outfit that might have started in the gym, but would have ended in some fun role play in our apartment. I guess I'm at her mercy as to where and how this outfit comes off. That brought a smile to my face. When Stephanie sat against my chest on top of the building a month ago, I had no idea how quickly I would go from a timid willingness to try a non-relationship with the woman I loved, to a man head over heels gone for what is proving daily to be the most amazing woman I've ever known. The combination of intelligence, instinct, determination, playfulness and sex appeal is both shocking and intriguing.

I slipped the sword she'd provided in the sheath at my waist and smiled that it wasn't technically the right weapon for the outfit – but I wasn't going to ruin her moment by pointing that out. I tied the mask, but left the hat on the bench. I'd play along with her fantasy, but the hat was ridiculous, and there was only so far I was willing to go to make a fool of myself for her amusement.

I opened the door slowly and stepped out into a darkened gym. It was completely quiet, giving me hope that she'd managed to lock the doors and keep the guys out. I don't know why I was so worried about that now.

Before I'd taken three steps away from the bathroom, I heard her voice saying, "That's far enough, Ranger."

I had grown accustomed to hearing her call me Ric, so having my street name on her lips was a little alarming, but the way she said it was different than normal and sexy as hell. Apparently, she wanted to play.

I lifted my hands in the air and turned slowly in the direction her voice had come from. She was standing near the windows, and despite it being near evening, there was enough light from the street and city to softly illuminate her from behind, almost making her seem like an angel.

"Where's the hat?" she asked in a firm voice.

I was grateful for my years of training in hiding my reactions, because I would have loved to smile at her approach so far. "I didn't think it was necessary."

"What part of 'put all of this on and come out' did you not understand?" she asked, coming closer. "I don't remember instructing you to wear only the parts you wanted to."

She made a sound of disapproval as she stopped four feet away. The silence stretched out, making it exciting to see what her next move might be. When she moved, I heard the sound of her metal sword being drawn from its holder to her side, and then she lifted her weapon up to touch just the tip to my bare shoulder.

"I think you need to learn there are consequences when you don't follow the rules," she practically purred, pushing the sword closer to me, but not so hard that it broke the skin.

"You think you're going to hand out a punishment?" I asked, loving the idea of her trying any of the foreplay I had used on her the afternoon before.

She laughed, before replying, "You're shirtless, in tight leather pants, knee boots, and a mask, and you're asking if I'll be able to hand out a punishment? I think the fact that you are wearing something other than fatigues or cargo pants and a t-shirt is proof I can do a good many things."

She had a point. In truth, I'd probably let her try just about anything. She left the sword at my shoulder, but took a step closer without increasing the pressure. It was then that I took in what she was wearing.

Oh hell, there was no way she had on what I thought she did. Standing in front of me, without shoes, was Stephanie, in a dress with an ankle length skirt that was uneven with rips and slits. There was a series of ties across the waist, leading up to her chest, displaying her two beautiful breasts nearly spilling out for all to see. There was nothing on her neck or shoulders, as the sleeves seemed to come straight off the low cut chest to cover half of her arms. It gave the impression of being the dress of a royal in medieval times, if they elected to dress in a revealing, provocative way. It wasn't the outfit I'd hoped to put her in if I'd won the bet, but it was close enough that I felt like a winner, too.

"I think I want to see you in that hat," she said in a challenging tone.

I smirked, ready to play with her a bit. "If you want me in that hat, you'll have to put it on my head."

The sword pressed once more into my skin, stinging a bit and making me wonder if she'd broken through. "If you want to be assertive and refuse to wear it, then you need to earn that privilege."

I reacted immediately, drawing my sword in one smooth motion. I was trained to handle swords both for offensive and defensive reasons, but since I don't have a use for the skills, I've gotten rather rusty. I've never had a gang member or a terrorist challenge me to a duel, so I haven't kept those skills as sharp as I have my hand to hand combat or my gun skills. Between her recent concentrated training with Scar and my size and reflexes, we were pretty evenly matched, as long as I didn't use my muscle to my advantage and knock her down.

Before I could get my sword straight out, she had countered my move and pushed my weapon away toward the floor. "Careful, Babe. You might bite off more than you can chew," I warned her.

She laughed, before replying, "You, of all people, should know when it comes to gauging what I can hold in my mouth. I am exceedingly capable of handling my healthy appetite."

I wasn't exactly sure what she meant by that, but anything that made me think about her insatiable appetites or her talented mouth taking me in was enough to distract me.

She tapped the metal of our swords together and brought my focus back to her. "You're giving up that easily?" she taunted. "I thought you'd be a bit more of a challenge."

Never one to back down from a challenge, I reacted, picking up my sword and lunging at her slow enough that she easily blocked me, and then tapped my stomach with her sword.

"That's twice now I could have ended your life. Are you ready to give up?"

I laughed, beginning to get into the feel of what she wanted. "If anybody is begging for mercy, it will be you," I teased, before attacking again.

I held back initially, but it didn't take me long to realize Steph had some serious skills with her sword. Scar had obviously taught her well, and she was focused tonight, which made her even more formidable. For long moments, the clash of the metal in our hands, with an occasional grunt or sound of frustration, were the only noises in the gym. I would push forward and force her to back up, before she would find something to use as leverage to reverse our course and make me retreat.

It was wonderful exercise, but it was a lot more than that. In the few seconds I allowed myself to look at her face, I couldn't help but notice she was radiant and grinning, obviously having a good time. I also thought I could tell from the tight fit of the thin cotton covering her chest that, despite the gym being warm, her nipples were growing more pronounced, indicating she was enjoying this as more than just a little aerobic conditioning.

I used that as my motivation for pushing her with a bit more muscle, until she had her back against the wall and our arms crossed above her head. "I'll accept your surrender anytime you want to offer it," I murmured, with my lips hovering over hers.

She was breathing hard, which only made her cleavage and heaving breasts that much more appealing. There was a fine mist of sweat on her skin, and in that moment, I thought she was the sexiest woman I'd ever seen.

Just as my lips began to caress hers, she stiffened and tilted her chin down slightly, making it more difficult for me to kiss her.

"Who said anything about surrender?"

With that, she dropped one hand and shoved, making me have to take a step backward to keep from falling, giving her enough of a window to escape. She spun around so that I was closer to the wall and attacked before I had planted my feet, giving her a brief advantage as she worked me back to the wall.

With a circular move, she spun my weapon away and positioned her sword between my legs, with the flat of the blade touching the base of my quickly growing erection. There wasn't much room in the pants, but my body was forcing them to accommodate me anyway. Damn, this side of Stephanie fighting and pushing was undoing me, and I didn't know how much longer I could safely split my focus with so much of my blood flowing away from my brain.

"I'm willing to listen if you're ready to beg for mercy," she said, turning my words on me.

"Babe, I don't beg for anything," I countered, trying to sound cool.

Even in the dark lighting, I could see the sparkle in her eyes from my words. "You'll beg tonight, or you will have to deal with this growing problem on your own." A playful tap of her sword against my tightly bundled balls made it obvious what problem she was referring to.

When had she become such a hard ass? I was the epitome of an Alpha male – in charge, controlling, and accustomed to having my orders followed – but having Stephanie handle me with this kind of confidence was making me see there was occasionally a benefit in being somewhat submissive. Still, I didn't want to let her think she'd won me over this quickly, so I set my sword on top of hers to lower it to a safer level and took a couple of steps to stand in her space once more.

"You realize forcing me to deal with my growing problem means you wouldn't get any help with your current state, either, right?"

She positively glowed in responding, "Have you seen the things I can make your shower do? Did you realize there are seven levels of pressure that you can make the water jets deliver? I've only experienced three of the lower levels so far. Should you refuse to say the words I want to hear, then I'm thinking I may finally have a reason to put that massaging head through its paces. It could be hours before I'm done with my shower tonight. I'll lock the door, but you're welcome to enjoy the soundtrack."

There was no way in hell I was going to let that happen. I needed to come up with a middle ground, where she could feel like she'd won, and I didn't have to beg for mercy. While I was distracted, she pulled her sword away from between my legs, took a step away, and then ran into the darkness of the gym, away from the windows, where I couldn't see.

"Babe?" I called out, wondering what she was up to now. "Where are you?"

"Come on, Ranger," she said from the shadows near the weight room. "If you want me, come and find me."

I tugged at the crotch of my excuse for pants, hoping to find a position that would be more comfortable for my now painful erection. The more she asserted herself, the more I wanted her.

I stopped and took a deep breath, willing my heart rate to slow down, in order to heighten my senses without the distraction of adrenalin. I moved as silently as possible in the boots she'd provided and waited for my hearing or sense of smell to give her away, since my eyes were nearly useless in the darkness of this part of the gym.

I heard her sword slice through the air just in time to raise my own weapon defensively. We parried for a few moments, before locking swords. She raised a leg to my hip and pushed me away, surprising the hell out of me enough that I missed the chance to grab her ankle when it was in the air. I wouldn't let her get away with that move again. Of course, she'd taken my shock as an opportunity to disappear into the darkness once more, so I'd have to find her before I could exact any kind of revenge.

When RangeMan was young, I can remember Lester setting up paintball wars in the woods outside town. We'd go camping and hang out together, and then after the sun set and it was completely dark, we'd team up and declare war. It was such a rush to strategize and attack, knowing it was all for fun and bragging rights. We hadn't done it in the last couple of years, but it struck me that I was having a wonderful time and wondered if the guys might enjoy us resurrecting that tradition. If we did, something told me I wanted Stephanie on my team, as she was obviously in her element sneaking around now.

No sooner had I thought that than a weight landed on my back and a small dagger was drawn at my throat. Stephanie had leapt from the half wall shelf that held the hand weights and attached herself around my shoulders and waist with her arms and legs. I lifted my hands in a surrender gesture and laughed. She'd done it; she'd won fair and square. I was too far away from a wall to back up into it to assist in dislodging her, and with the edge of the dagger at my throat, I couldn't flip her off safely.

"Babe," I said, wondering if she knew that meant. I couldn't believe she'd won.

"Don't you _Babe_ me, mister," she commanded. "I want to hear the word surrender."

It grated against every instinct in my body to use that word. "How about I acknowledge that you won?"

"Not good enough. The sharp edge at your jugular acknowledges that I won," she pointed out, not letting me get away with a substitution of words.

"Is there some other word that might work in this circumstance?" I asked, looking around for another option to dislodge her without throwing her over my shoulder to the floor as I would have in a real combat setting.

Her legs tightened around my waist, and the arm not holding the dagger moved to rub my shoulder. "Hmmm," she said, as she pretended to consider my request. "Perhaps we can work around a true surrender, if you agree to submit, instead."

My head snapped back a little at that word. What was in my pants stood up straighter, practically screaming for me to agree to anything she suggested, just to be able to move her from my back to my chest and keep her in this position.

"What would I be submitting to?" I asked, needing to understand what she was suggesting.

She laughed a wicked sound and clarified, "Whatever I want, all night long."

I couldn't help but push back. "All night long? You fell asleep on me after a few hours last time. What makes you think you can handle me all night tonight?"

"I've taken my vitamins, and the things I have in mind have you doing most of the work and me being able to reap the reward," she said with her lips touching my ear. With the final word, her teeth clamped down on my lower lobe, before her tongue slipped out to soothe the sting from the bite.

That was when my dick decided it had been suppressed long enough, and it decided to control my ability to speak by forcing me to say, "I will voluntarily surrender my sword to your keeping, and the rest of me, I gladly submit to your will…all night long."

I smiled in the darkness when I felt her body shiver at my words. It was then that I realized these rules I'd lived under for so long were no longer as cut and dry as they once were. Never back down, never show a weakness, no relationships, condoms not rings, emotions are to be buried not shared, and never surrender were perfectly acceptable for dealing with combat life or death situations, but they would never again be applied to my life with Stephanie.

She was the exception to virtually every rule, and I knew she controlled something deep inside of me on a primal level that I didn't understand and no longer felt the need to fight. She was my woman, I was her man, and that was the way it was meant to be.

She spoke, pulling me away from my musings. "Drop your sword."

I heard the metal hit the floor as I instantly obeyed her command. She loosened her legs and slid down my back, which was not what I wanted to happen, but I waited for her next move.

Her fingertips lightly touched my back, and then moved around my bicep to my chest as she walked around to face me. "Thank you for playing along," she said in her usual voice, while dropping her sword on top of mine on the floor.

I wasn't exactly ready to step out of the scene she had created for us. After all, we were in costumes, and just because her fantasy of defeating Zorro had come true, that didn't mean I'd been able to take advantage of her outfit to the degree I wanted to.

"I believe I still owe you my servitude through the evening," I reminded her, lowering my head slightly and wondering if she would take the bait.

I felt her nails as her fingers curled into my chest. The harsh tone returned once more to say, "That you do, but first, I'll see the face of my prize."

I reach my hand up to remove the mask, but she stopped me.

"Upstairs – leave the mask on until we're upstairs so that I can appreciate the unveiling with a little more light."

I dropped my hand, willing to let her call the shots for now. "I think your first act of service should be to carry me to the top floor of the tower so that we might work off your debt privately."

I moved quickly and picked her up like a bride, teasing her a bit. "You mean more private than a locked gym in pitch black darkness."

She hesitated, and for some reason, that made all my instincts jump up.

"Babe?"

"I didn't lock the doors, and I didn't scramble the cameras. I didn't advertise what was happening down here, but I didn't take any steps, other than posting a sign that gym was closed until midnight, to keep this from the guys," she confessed.

Most likely the lack of lighting had protected our play, but I made a mental note to get her a fob that would scramble the cameras in a room in case she decided she wanted to plan some more of these kinds of encounters. I decided not to say anything, trusting my guys to keep their noses out of my personal business.

I stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the top floor, before leaning in to finally kiss her. The elevator stopped quicker than I wanted it to, and I stepped out before realizing we were on five, and not seven.

There was a crowd of guys assembled around who began clapping, before kneeling on the floor in front of us. It was Lester that spoke up, grinning from ear to ear.

"We pledge our allegiance to you, Lady Stephanie, who defeated the masked tyrant of the land of RangeMan and forced him to surrender. We wish you Godspeed in celebrating your victory, vowing to guard your quarters until you arise to fight on our behalf once more."

I would have threatened to kick his ass, but Stephanie erupted in the most beautiful laughter I'd ever heard. The passion of fighting with her, the sensual electricity of the chase, the promise of mind blowing sex upstairs was all still there, but it fell far below the overwhelming feeling of love for the woman in my arms. Her joy, the sound of her consuming laughter, warmed my chest and made me want to join the men on my knees in front of this woman whom we all worshiped.

She indicated that she wanted to get down, and then she moved around the group, kissing the top of every head, whispering something too soft to be overheard in each man's ear. Finally, having greeted them all, she came back to my side and took my hand.

"Thank you, knights of RangeMan. I'll join you in the good fight tomorrow, but until then, I am going to enjoy the spoils of my victory." They cheered for her, and she pulled us back to the elevator.

As soon as the doors closed, she turned to me, attempting to apologize. I put a finger over her lips to stop her. "They just wanted to join in the fun, Babe. There is nothing to apologize for."

She nodded and looked down, before straightening her posture to stand straighter and look me in the eye. "You still owe me a night of servitude."

"I think if I've proven nothing else to you tonight, you should know that I am a man of my word, and if I owe a debt, I'll honor it," I assured her.

"Good," she said, smiling up at me, "because I'm nowhere near finished ruling over you."

The doors opened, and we stepped out to my apartment. Once the penthouse entrance was locked behind us, she reached up and removed my mask, along with the tie from my hair.

Tossing the tie and mask on the floor, she turned and walked to the bedroom, glancing over her shoulder at the doorway. "You need to come, too."

"Oh, my queen," I replied, picking up Lester's verbiage. "I intend to."

**The end!**

I can't believe this story is finished. It doesn't seem like that long ago we started this journey looking into what would happen if the tables were turned and it was Ranger that was attracting a crazy instead of Stephanie. To everyone who left reviews, sent private messages and e-mails, I can't thank you enough. Knowing there are people out there reading along and invested in the lives of the characters, means so much to me.

To Fredda (Rangergirl1234) thank you for beginning this story with me, and working as the beta until little Levi began to demand more attention from his mother. I continue to pray for his health and your ability to carry him full term to deliver a healthy baby boy.

To Jen (JenRar) thank you for being willing to step forward when I was desperate for some assistance as the beta on the rest of the story. Your enthusiasm, gentle suggestions, and excitement for every chapter was such an inspiration to keep typing. Thank you for agreeing to continue working with me in whatever my mind comes up with next.

I'm taking a little break to get this story out of my head, but I promise to return with something new soon.

Thank you all once again,

~Jennifer


End file.
